OF  THE 


MISSISSIPPI  RIVER 


WITH  THE 


Sttoentnrts  of  tlje  Artist 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
Getty  Research  Institute 


https://archive.org/details/descriptionofban00banv_3 


DESCRIPTION 


OF 

BANVARD’S  PANORAMA 


OF  THE 


PAINTED  ON 

THREE  MILES  OF  CANVAS: 


EXHIBITING  A  VIEW  OF  COUNTRY 

1200  MILES  IN  LENGTH, 

EXTENDING  FROM  THE 

Mouth  of  the  Missouri  River  to  the  City  of  New  Orleans ; 

BEING  BY  FAR 

£l)c  Cargcst  picture 

EVER  EXECUTED  BY  MAN. 


BOSTON: 

JOHN  PUTNAM,  PRINTER, 

No.  81  Cornhill. 

1847, 


■ 


. 


t 


TRIBUTE  TO  NATIVE  TALENT. 

[from  the  BOSTON  EVENING  GAZETTE,  APRIL,  1847.] 


A  very  interesting  meeting  occurred  last  Monday  evening, 
at  Banvard’s  Panorama,  in  Amory  Hall.  His  Excellency 5 
Gov.  Briggs  was  present  with  a  large  number  of  the  members 
of  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives,  and  other  high 
officers  of  State,  together  with  a  large  and  fashionable  audience 
of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  After  the  picture  had  passed,  the 
Hon.  Wm,  Bradbury,  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representa¬ 
tives,  arose,  and  with  some  appropriate  remarks,  proposed  that 
the  spectators  organize  themselves  into  a  regular  meeting,  and 
give  an  expression  of  opinion  regarding  the  great  merit  of  the 
painting.  The  Hon.  Mr.  B.  then  moved  that  his  Excellency 
Gov.  Briggs,  of  Massachusetts,  should  take  the  chair,  which 
motion  was  received  unanimously  by  acclamation.  Gov. 
Briggs  accordingly  appeared  upon  the  floor. 

As  the  Governor  left  the  seat  which  he  occupied  to  take  the 
chair,  he  was  greeted  with  a  hearty  round  of  applause,  expres¬ 
sive  of  his  popularity  with  the  audience,  and  of  their  approba¬ 
tion  of  the  object  of  the  meeting. 

Upon  taking  the  chair,  his  Excellency  remarked,  that  there 
seemed  to  be  a  propriety,  and  for  one  he  should  most  cheerfully 


4 


do  it,  in  giving  an  expression  of  their  pleasure  and  admiration 
at  the  wonderful  and  extraordinary  production  which  had  just 
passed  before  them,  and  of  their  high  appreciation  of  the  tal¬ 
ents  of  the  young  artist.  He  said  that  he  was  informed  by 
Mr.  Banvard,  that  the  idea  of  this  Panorama  first  entered  his 
mind,  when  a  fatherless,  unprotected  boy,  fifteen  years  old,  he 
was  floating  for  the  first  time  down  the  rapid  current  of  this 
noble  river.  He  was  stimulated  in  the  prosecution  of  his  orig¬ 
inal  and  herculean  task,  by  seeing  it  stated  in  some  foreign 
journal,  that  in  this  country  there  were  some  of  the  most  pic¬ 
turesque  and  magnificent  scenes  in  the  world,  but  that  Amer¬ 
ica  had  no  artist  adequate  to  the  task  of  giving  a  correct  and 
faithful  representation  of  them.  Mr.  B.  resolved  upon  an  ef¬ 
fort,  by  which  the  talent  of  his  country  should  be  redeemed 
from  this  aspersion,  and  by  which  the  world  should  know  that 
American  genius  was  competent  to  give  an  appropriate  and 
beautiful  representation  of  American  scenes.  Successfully  and 
nobly  has  he  accomplished  his  work.  After  the  idea  of  this 
enterprise  entered  his  mind,  it  followed  him  by  day  and  haunt¬ 
ed  him  by  night  for  months  and  years,  until  it  developed  itself 
in  the  wonderful  and  magnificent  production  which  we  have 
witnessed  this  evening.  More  than  four  hundred  days  was 
this  young  man  floating  alone  in  an  open  skiff  upon  the  bosom 
of  this  majestic  stream,  gliding  among  its  romantic  islands  or 
wandering  upon  its  beautiful  shores,  making  his  drawings  of  the 
towns,  cities,  banks  and  bluffs,  which,  as  if  by  enchantment, 
have  just  passed  before  our  astonished  gaze,  in  all  the  correct¬ 
ness  of  their  proportions  and  beauty  of  coloring.  It  should  be 
to  us  an  interesting  fact,  that  this  vast  and  splendid  work  of 
art  is  the  production  of  a  young,  unencouraged,  self-made,  self- 
taught  artist.  He  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  as 
they  say  at  the  West,  raised  in  Kentucky.  After  Mr.  B.  had 


5 


resolved  upon  this  great  work  he  was  penniless,  he  had  there¬ 
fore  to  raise  funds  to  purchase  materials.  He  accordingly 
went  up  and  down  the  great  Father  of  Waters  several  times, 
trading,  boating,  &c.,  until  he  acquired  a  few  thousand  dol¬ 
lars.  With  this  he  erected  a  house  in  which  to  paint,  pur¬ 
chased  canvas,  colors,  brushes  and  all  necessary  articles,  and 
went  to  work. 

The  fame,  continued  the  Governor,  of  this  vast  and  beauti¬ 
ful  panorama  of  the  noble  Mississippi  will  continue,  and  the 
genius  and  enterprise  of  the  author  he  honored  so  long  as  the 
great  Father  of  Waters  and  its  numerous  tributaries  continued 
to  pour  their  tides  into  the  great  ocean.  As  it  is  a  truly  na¬ 
tional  work  he  thought  there  was  a  propriety  in  giving  an  ex¬ 
pression  of  their  high  estimate  of  it  as  an  extraordinary  work 
of  art,  and  of  their  appreciation  of  the  talents  of  the  artist. 

After  the  Governor  had  taken  his  seat,  the  Hon.  Mr.  Cal¬ 
houn,  President  of  the  Senate,  arose,  and  offered  the  following 
Resolutions : — 

Resolved ,  That  we  regard  the  Panorama  of  the  Mississippi 
River,  painted  by  Mr.  John  Banvard,  as  a  truly  wonderful 
and  magnificent  production;  and  we  deem  it  but  a  just  appre¬ 
ciation  of  its  extraordinary  merit  to  express  our  high  admira¬ 
tion  of  the  boldness  aftd  originality  of  the  conception,  and  of 
the  industry  and  indefatigable  perseverance  of  the  young  and 
talented  artist,  in  the  execution  of  his  herculean  work. 

Resolved ,  That  the  immense  extent  of  this  picture,  its  truth¬ 
fulness  to  Nature,  as  certified  by  those  who  are  familiar  with 
the  river;  its  minuteness  of  detail;  the  wonderful  illusion  of 
its  perspective,  and  the  great  variety  of  its  scenery  and  objects  ; 

1* 


6 


render  it  a  useful  medium  for  imparting  correct  information, 
respecting  an  interesting  portion  of  our  beautiful  country. 

Resolved ,  That  as  Americans,  it  is  with  emotions  of  pride 
and  pleasure  we  commend  this  splendid  painting,  and  its  tal¬ 
ented  artist,  who,  by  its  production,  has  reflected  so  much 
honor  upon  himself,  and  upon  the  country  of  his  birth,  to  the 
favorable  consideration  of  the  admirers  of  the  fine  arts,  and  of 
all  others,  who,  under  the  influence  of  a  commendable  patri¬ 
otism,  cherish  a  disposition  to  encourage  native  genius  and 
enterprise. 

At  the  close  of  Mr.  Calhoun’s  remarks,  Mr.  Bradbury  arose 
again,  and  after  making  some  prefatory  remarks,  said,  that 
the  illustrious  Fulton,  the  inventor  of  the  steam  engine,  by 
which  invention  this  most  magnificent  of  all  rivers  had  been 
available  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  vast  valley,  and  back  coun¬ 
try,  through  which  it  flowed,  and  to  the  world,  first  went  to 
England  as  an  Artist  ;  while  there,  seeing  the  various  philo¬ 
sophical  modes  by  which  machinery  was  applied  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  saving  labor,  he  was  led  to  abandon  his  profession,  and 
conceived  the  idea  of  applying  steam  power  to  locomotives. 

Having  wished  Mr.  Banvard  a  favorable  reception  in  Eu¬ 
rope,  when  he  should  visit  it,  which  it  was  understood  he  in¬ 
tended  soon  to  do,  he  finished  his  remarks  by  moving  the 
adoption  of  the  Resolutions. 

The  question  being  put,  it  was  unanimously  decided  in  the 
affirmative.  The  audience  then  returned  to  their  homes,  high¬ 
ly  gratified  with  their  truly  rational  and  intellectual  entertainv 
ment. 


f 


ADVENTURES  OF  THE.  ARTIST. 


[Note.  As  many  inquiries  respecting  the  past  history  of  the  artist  have  been  made 
by  those  who  have  viewed  his  painting,  at  the  suggestion  of  a  number  of  his  friends 
the  following  sketch  of  his  adventures  is  compiled  from  Howitt’s  Journal,  London, 
Chambers’s  Edinburg  Journal,  and  Morris  and  Willis’s  Home  Journal,  New  York.] 

There  was  a  young  lad  of  fifteen,  a  fatherless,  moneyless 
youth,  to  whom  there  came  a  very  extraordinary  idea,  as  he 
was  floating  for  the  first  time  down  the  noble  Mississippi.  He 
had  read  in  some  foreign  journal  that  America  could  boast  the 
most  picturesque  and  magnificent  scenery  in  the  world,  but 
that  she  had  not  yet  produced  an  artist  capable  of  delineating 
it.  On  this  thought  he  pondered  and  pondered  till  his  brain 
began  to  whirl ;  and  as  he  glided  along  on  the  smooth  surface 
of  the  river,  gazing  with  wonder  and  delight  upon  the  ever 
varied  and  beautiful  shores,  the  boy  resolved  within  himself 
that  he  would  take  away  the  reproach  from  his  country, — that 
he  would  paint  the  beauties  and  sublimities  of  his  native  land. 

Some  years  passed  away,  and  still  John  Banvard, — for  that 
was  his  name, — dreamed  of  being  a  painter.  What  he  was 
in  his  waking,  working  moments,  we  do  not  know;  but,  at 
all  events,  he  found  time  to  turn  over  and  over  again  the  great 
thought  that  haunted  him,  till  at  length,  ere  he  had  attained 
the  age  of  manhood,  it  assumed  a  distinct  and  tangible  shape 
in  his  mind,  and  he  devoted  himself  to  its  realization.  There 
mingled  no  idea  of  profit  with  his  ambition,  and,  indeed, 
strange  to  say,  we  can  learn  nothing  ojf  any  aspirations  he  may 
have  felt  after  artistical  excellence.  His  grand  object,  as  he 
himself  informs  us,  was  to  produce  for  his  country  the  largest 
painting  in  the  world.  He  determined  to  paint  a  picture  of 
the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Mississippi,  which  should  be  as 
superior  to  all  others,  in  point  of  size ,  as  that  prodigious  river 
is  superior  to  the  streamlets  of  Europe, — a  gigantic  idea  ! 


8 


which  seems  truly  kindred  to  the  illimitable  forests  and  vast 
extent  of  his  native  land. 

We  will  now  say  something  of  his  eventful  and  romantic 
life,  which,  with  its  hardships,  disappointments  and  priva¬ 
tions,  had  fitted  him  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  herculean 
undertaking.  He  was  horn  in  the  city  of  New  York,  where 
he  received  a  good  education,  and  is  descended  from  an  old 
French  family.  His  grandfather  was  driven  out  of  France 
by  the  bloody  sword  of  persecution  during  one  of  the  revolu¬ 
tions  of  the  country,  and  fled  to  Amsterdam,  in  Holland. 
From  thence  he  sailed  to  America,  bringing  with  him  little 
else  but  the  heraldic  honors  of  his  family,  for  the  Bon  Yerds 
(corrupted  by  the  patois  of  the  country  to  Banvard)  were  of 
highly  respectable  lineage.  The  coat  of  arms  patented  the 
family  by  the  government,  with  the  large  antique  silver  seal, 
is  now  in  possession  of  Rev.  Joseph  Banvard,  brother  to  John, 
who  is  pastor  of  the  Harvard  Street  Church,  Boston.  Our 
hero  showed  the  bent  of  his  genius  at  a  very  early  age.  Being 
of  delicate  health  in  childhood,  he  was  unable  to  enjoy  the 
active,  out-door  sports  of  other  boys,  and,  accordingly,  he 
amused  himself  by  drawing  and  painting,  for  which  he  exhib¬ 
ited  decided  talents,  by  becoming  quite  an  accomplished 
draughtsman  while  yet  a  mere  lad. 

While  his  more  favored  brothers  were  in  the  open  air  at 
play,  he  sometimes  would  be  in  his  room  projecting  some  in¬ 
strument  of  natural  science, — a  camera  obscura,  or  solar  mi¬ 
croscope.  He  once  came  very  near  losing  his  eye-sight,  by 
the  explosion  of  a  glass  receiver,  in  which  he  was  collecting 
hydrogen  gas.  His  room  was  quite  a  laboratory  and  mu¬ 
seum.  He  constructed  a  respectable  diorama  of  the  sea,  hav¬ 
ing  moving  boats,  fish,  and  a  naval  engagement.  He  saved 
the  pennies  that  were  given  him,  not  spending  them  in  toys 
or  sweetmeats,  as  most  youths  would,  and  bought  some 
types  for  a  wooden  printing  press,  of  his  own  construction, 
and  printed  some  handbills  for  his  juvenile  exhibitions.  We 
have  one  of  them  now  in  our  possession,  and  it  is  quite  a  gen¬ 
teel  specimen  of  typography.  The  child  was  truly  the  father  of 


9 


the  man  in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  cases,  but  he  had  much  to 
pass  through  before  the  promise  of  the  boy  could  be  developed 
in  the  accomplishments  of  the  man,  as  the  sequel  will  show. 

Young  Banvard  was  intimate  with  Woodworth,  the  poet, 
the  author  of  the  “Old  Oaken  Bucket,”  whose  family  were 
neighbors  to  his  father.  He  evinced  a  great  taste  for  poetry, 
at  which  he  early  began  to  try  his  versatile  genius.  He  wrote 
some  very  pretty  verses  when  he  was  about  nine  years  of  age. 
He  has  continued  occasionally  to  amuse  his  leisure  hours  in 
this  way,  up  to  the  present  time ;  and  several  of  his  poeti¬ 
cal  productions  have  recently  appeared  in  the  city  papers. 
His  poem  of  the  White  Fawn,  which  he  recites  to  his  au¬ 
diences,  in  illustration  of  a  scene  in  his  beautiful  picture,  cer¬ 
tainly  stamps  him  a  poet  of  no  ordinary  abilities. 

When  Banvard  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  his  family 
met  with  a  severe  reverse  of  fortune.  His  father  lived  just 
long  enough  to  see  his  property,  Collected  by  frugal  industry 
and  perseverance,  swept  away  from  him  by  the  mismanage¬ 
ment  of  an  indiscreet  partner,  and  his  family  turned  houseless 
upon  a  pitiless  world.  John  then  went  to  the  West,  poor  and 
friendless,  and  far  away  from  his  mother,  brother  and  sisters, 
and  those  he  held  dear.  He  arrived  at  Louisville,  Kentucky, 
sought  employment,  and  procured  a  situation  in  a  drug  store  ; 
but  this  did  not  suit  his  taste.  Instead  of  making  pills,  his 
employer  would  often  find  him  with  a  piece  of  chalk  or  coal, 
sketching  the  likenesses  of  his  fellow  clerks  upon  the  walls  of 
the  rooms,  where  they  were  putting  up  medicines.  His  em¬ 
ployer  told  him  he  thought  he  could  make  better  likenesses 
than  he  could  pills.  John  thought  so  too,  and  so  “  threw 
physic  to  the  dogs,”  and  left  the  druggist. 

We  next  find  him  engaged  in  his  favorite  employment  of 
painting — he  having  made  an  engagement  to  ornament  and 
decorate  a  public  garden.  But  this  concern  soon  failed  and 
left  him  without  money  or  employment.  At  this  time  he  was 
about  sixteen  years  old.  Our  hero,  nothing  daunted,  by  per¬ 
severing  labor  obtained  a  little  money,  engaged  a  room,  and 
pursued  the  business  of  painting  for  himself.  The  day  had 


10 


not  arrived  for  success  in  his  chosen  pursuit ;  so  being  fond  of 
adventure,  he  started  down  the  river  with  some  young  men  of 
his  acquaintance,  to  seek  anew  his  fortune. 

When  they  had  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Saline  river,  they 
met  with  a  disaster  which  had  well  nigh  proved  fatal  to  the 
young  artist.  The  river  was  lashed  by  a  terrific  storm  ;  the 
night  was  dark ;  the  boat  broke  loose  from  its  moorings.  By 
great  exertions  of  all  hands  on  board,  in  pumping  and  bailing 
all  night,  they  succeeded  in  keeping  the  craft  afloat,  and 
made  a  safe  landing.  During  this  perilous  night,  our  young 
adventurer,  at  the  hazard  of  his  own  life,  saved  the  life  of  one 
of  his  comrades  who  fell  overboard.  When  day  broke  they 
discovered  a  stock-boat  but  a  few  yards  below  them,  whose 
proximity  they  had  not  discovered  during  the  night,  from  the 
noise  of  the  storm.  It  was  an  ill-fated  night  for  the  stock- 
boat.  It  was  sunk,  all  the  stock  was  drowned,  and  the  men 
were  found  sitting  on  the  bank  nearly  frozen,  whom  the  more 
fortunate  party  generously  relieved.  A  large  number  of  boats 
met  with  a  similar  fate  with  the  stock-boat,  on  that  fatal 
night. 

The  next  we  find  of  Banvard,  he  is  in  the  village  of  New 
Harmony,  on  the  Wabash  river,  where,  in  company  with 
three  or  four  other  young  men,  he  “got  up”  some  dioramic 
paintings,  fitted  them  up  for  public  exhibition,  in  a  flat  boat 
which  they  built  for  the  purpose,  and  started  off  down  the 
Wabash  with  the  intention  of  “coasting”  that  river  into  the 
Ohio,  and  so  down  the  Mississippi  to  New  Orleans ;  thus  ex¬ 
hibiting  to  the  sparse  population  of  the  wilderness,  specimens 
of  the  fine  arts,  at  the  same  time  replenishing  their  exhausted 
funds.  This  proved  to  be  a  very  unfortunate  speculation. 
The  capital  of  the  company  gave  out  before  they  were  able 
to  complete  their  plans,  and  they  left  port  with  their  boat  in 
an  unfinished  condition,  calculating  to  finish  it  with  their 
first  proceeds,  they  having  invested  their  last  few  dimes  in  a 
supply  of  bacon,  corn,  meal  and  potatoes ;  but  fate  conspired 
against  them.  The  river  was  low,  and  none  of  them  had 
ever  descended  the  Wabash ;  consequently  they  were  igno- 


11 


rant  of  the  channel,  lodged  on  the  sand  bars,  and  hung  on  the 
snags  until  they  exhausted  their  scanty  supply  of  provisions. 
They  at  length  found  themselves  fast  on  a  sand  bar,  and 
down  to  their  last  peck  of  potatoes  at  the  same  time.  They 
labored  hard  all  day  to  get  out  of  this  predicament,  but  with¬ 
out  success  ;  and  having  roasted  their  last  potatoes,  they  went 
to  bed,  or  rather  to  bench,  for  their  money  gave  out  before 
they  had  procured  bedding,  and  they  had  to  content  them¬ 
selves  with  the  softest  plank  of  their  seats  for  their  slum¬ 
bers.  Next  morning  they  were  up  before  the  sun,  with  their 
spirits  refreshed  by  a  night’s  repose;  but  without  any  break¬ 
fast,  they  jumped  into  the  water,  and  with  their  rails  went 
stoutly  to  work  again  to  force  their  boat  over  the  bar.  Over 
exertion,  together  with  being  in  the  water  too  long  without 
food,  brought  a  severe  fit  of  ague  upon  Banvard.  The  bar 
upon  which  they  were  fast  was  called  the  “  Bone  Bank  ” 
bar,  as,  immediately  opposite  on  the  shore,  the  bank  of  the 
river  was  full  of  organic  remains.  Some  of  the  large  bones 
were  then  protruding  out  of  the  side  of  the  bank  in  full  view. 
As  Banvard  lay  on  the  soft  sand  of  the  bar,  as  it  was  more 
comfortable  than  the  hard  plank  of  the  boat,  his  head  burn¬ 
ing  with  the  fever  and  his  limbs  racked  with  pain,  he 
looked  at  these  gloomy  relics  of  an  antediluvian  race,  and 
felt  as  though  his  bones  would  soon  be  laid  with  them.  But 
at  sunset  the  rest  of  the  company  got  the  boat  over  the  bar, 
took  Banvard  aboard,  and  landed  in  the  woods,  all  nearly 
exhausted.  Food  was  as  scarce  here  as  it  was  upon  the  bar, 
and  all  hands  went  supperless  to  bed.  Next  morning  they 
started  early,  not  intent  on  exhibiting  specimens  of  the  fine 
arts,  but  on  obtaining  something  to  eat,  as  by  this  time  they 
were  nearly  half  starved.  But  the  contrary  winds  landed 
their  luckless  craft  on  Wabash  Island,  which  was  uninhab¬ 
ited.  Here,  fortunately,  they  found  some  pawpaws,  and  they 
all  feasted  voraciously  on  them  except  Banvard,  who  was  too 
sick  to  eat  any  thing,  and  who  lay  upon  one  of  the  benches 
burning  with  a  violent  fever.  Next  day  they  sent  their  hand¬ 
bills  down  to  the  village  of  Shawnee  town,  which  was  in 


12 


sight,  about  seven  miles  ahead,  informing  the  inhabitants  that 
something  would  be  “exhibited”  in  the  dioramic  line  that 
evening,  at  their  wharf;  and  so  there  was;  for  as  the  com¬ 
pany  approached  the  wharf  with  their  boat,  no  doubt  with 
high  expectations  of  a  good  supper,  they  observed  a  large 
audience  awaiting  their  arrival.  But  the  exhibition  turned 
out  different  from  what  was  expected.  The  boat  lodged  on  a 
ledge  of  rocks  about  half  a  cable’s  length  from  the  shore. 
The  men  from  the  boat  got  out  a  line  to  the  people  on  the 
wharf,  who  pulled  with  the  same  eagerness  that  the  half 
starved  company  on  board  pushed  and  pried  with  their  poles. 
But  fate,  regardless  of  the  philosophy  of  action  and  reaction, 
as  well  as  of  the  interests  of  the  fine  arts  at  Shawneetown, 
held  the  boat  fast,  and  the  audience  went  away  without  a 
sight  of  the  paintings,  and  the  artists  to  sleep  again  without  a 
supper.  That  night  the  swells  from  a  passing  steamer  lifted 
the  boat  from  the  rocks,  and  set  it  afloat  down  the  river;  and 
when  those  on  board  awoke  in  the  morning,  they  found  them¬ 
selves  hard  aground  again  on  the  Cincinnati  bar,  about  eight 
miles  below  Shawneetown.  The  boat  was  got  off  with  but 
little  trouble,  and  they  landed  in  a  settlement.  Here  they 
were  very  liberal  in  their  terms,  as  money  was  scarce,  and 
they  wanted  to  make  sure  of  something  to  eat.  A  bushel  of 
potatoes,  a  fowl,  or  a  dozen  of  eggs,  were  good  for  an  admis¬ 
sion  to  their  interesting  exhibition.  That  night,  after  they 
got  through  exhibiting  their  paintings,  they  had  a  luxurious 
supper.  Fasting  so  long  appeared  to  have  done  Banvard 
some  good,  for  it  starved  the  fever  out  of  him;  he  found,  as 
we  often  do,  that  adversity  has  its  blessings,  and  in  a  few 
days  he  was  entirely  well. 

The  adventurers  continued  on  with  their  boat,  stopping  at 
the  settlements  along  the  shore,  and  “astonishing  the  na¬ 
tives”  with  their  dioramas.  The  boat  was  not  very  large, 
and  if  the  audience  collected  too  much  on  one  side,  the  water 
would  intrude  over  their  low  gunwales  into  the  exhibition 
room.  This  kept  the  company,  by  turns,  in  the  un-artist-like 
employment  of  pumping,  to  keep  the  boat  from  sinking. 


13 


Sometimes  the  swells  from  a  passing  steamer  would  cause  the 
water  to  rush  through  the  cracks  of  the  weather-boarding, 
and  give  the  audience  a  bathing.  Banvard  says  they  made 
no  extra  charge  for  this  part  of  the  exhibition,  although  it  was 
not  mentioned  in  the  programme. 

Money  being  scarce,  they  were  compelled  to  receive  c:  truck 
and  trade”  for  admissions,  such  as  onions,  potatoes,  eggs,  et 
cetera.  It  was  no  unusual  thing  to  see  a  family  coming  to 
witness  the  “  show  boat,”  the  father  with  a  bushel  of  pota¬ 
toes,  the  mother  with  a  fowl,  and  the  children  with  a  pump¬ 
kin  a-piece,  for  their  admission  fees.  On  a  certain  night, 
while  they  were  exhibiting,  some  rogue  let  the  boat  loose,  and 
it  drifted  off  several  miles  down  the  stream  with  the  uncon¬ 
scious  spectators,  who  were  landed  in  a  thick  cane  brake, 
about  two  miles  below.  They  were  obliged  to  make  their 
way  home  as  best  they  could. 

At  Plumb  Point  the  boat  was  attacked  by  a  party  of  the 
Murell  robbers,  a  large  organized  banditti,  who  infested  the 
country  for  miles  around  ;  and  here  our  hero  came  near  losing 
his  life.  Several  pistol  shots  were  fired  at  him,  but  being  in 
the  dark,  none  of  them  took  effect,  although  several  lodged  in 
the  deck  of  the  boat  within  a  few  inches  of  him.  After  a  des¬ 
perate  resistance,  during  which  one  of  the  robbers  was  shot, 
the  boat  was  rescued.  During  the  encounter,  one  of  the  com¬ 
pany  received  a  severe  wound  in  the  arm  from  a  bowie  knife, 
but  the  rest  escaped  unhurt.  Mr.  Banvard  continued  with 
the  boat  until  it  arrived  at  the  Grand  Gulf,  where  he  obtained 
a  commission  to  paint  some  views.  He  had  found  the  re¬ 
ceipts  of  the  floating  expedition  to  be  more  potatoes  than 
dimes,  more  eggs  than  dollars  ;  so  he  sold  out  his  interest  and 
left.  We  know  nothing  further  of  this  expedition,  but  Ban¬ 
vard  seems  to  have  been  satisfied  with  floating  dioramas. 

After  this,  he  engaged  in  painting  at  New  Orleans,  Natchez, 
and  subsequently  at  Cincinnati  and  Louisville,  and  was  lib¬ 
erally  rewarded.  Not  content,  however,  he  executed  a  very 
fine  panorama  of  the  city  of  Venice,  and  exhibited  it  in  the 
West  with  considerable  success.  He  finally  lost  this  painting 

2 


14 


by  the  sinking  of  a  steamer  upon  which  it  was  being  trans¬ 
ported  to  the  city  of  Nashville.  Having  accumulated,  by  his 
art,  a  little  capital,  we  next  find  him  at  St.  Louis,  as  the  pro¬ 
prietor  of  the  St.  Louis  museum,  which  he  had  purchased. 
But  here  fate  frowned  again  upon  his  efforts.  He  remained  in 
St.  Louis  just  long  enough  to  lose  all  he  had  previously  earned, 
and  then  left  for  Cincinnati,  where  he  fared  little  better.  He 
then  procured  a  small  boat  and  started  down  the  Ohio  river 
without  a  dime,  and  living  several  days  upon  nuts  which  he 
collected  from  the  woods.  His  next  stopping  place  was  a  small 
town  where  he  did  some  painting,  and  sold  a  revolving  pistol 
for  which  he  had  given  twelve  dollars  in  St.  Louis,  for  twenty- 
five  dollars.  With  this  capital  he  bought  a  larger  boat,  got 
some  produce  aboard,  which  he  retailed  out  along  shore;  then 
sold  his  concern  for  fifty  dollars.  Having  now  a  little  capital, 
the  young  artist  made  several  very  successful  speculations,  and 
managed  to  make  during  this  Quixotic  expedition  several  thou¬ 
sand  dollars.  With  the  capital  thus  accumulated,  he  commen¬ 
ced  his  grand  project  of  painting  the  Panorama  of  the  Missis¬ 
sippi. 

For  this  purpose,  he  procured  a  small  skiff,  and  descended 
the  river  to  make  the  necessary  drawings,  in  the  spring  of  1840, 
and  the  first  sketch  was  made  just  before  he  became  of  age. 
Had  he  been  aware,  when  he  commenced  the  undertaking,  of 
the  vast  amount  of  labor  it  required,  he  would  have  shrunk 
from  the  task  in  dismay ;  but  having  commenced  the  work,  he 
was  determined  to  proceed,  being  spurred  on  to  its  completion, 
perhaps,  by  the  doubts  of  some  of  his  friends  to  whom  he  com¬ 
municated  his  project,  as  to  its  practicability,  and  by  the  asser¬ 
tions  of  some  foreign  writers,  that  ‘  ‘America  had  no  artists  com¬ 
mensurate  with  the  grandeur  and  extent  of  her  scenery.”  The 
idea  of  gain  never  entered  his  mind  when  he  commenced  the 
undertaking,  but  he  was  actuated  by  a  patriotic  and  honorable 
ambition,  that  America  should  produce  the  largest  painting  in 
the  world. 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  he  encountered,  was  the  pre¬ 
paratory  labor  he  had  to  undergo  in  making  the  necessary 


15 


drawings.  For  this  purpose  he  had  to  travel  thousands  of 
miles  alone  in  an  open  skiff,  crossing  and  recrossing  the  rapid 
stream,  in  many  places  over  two  miles  in  breadth,  to  select 
proper  points  of  sight  from  which  to  take  his  sketch  ;  his  hands 
became  hardened  with  constantly  plying  the  oar,  and  his  skin 
as  tavvney  as  an  Indian’s,  from  exposure  to  the  rays  of  the  sun 
and  the  vicissitudes  of  the  weather.  He  would  be  weeks  to¬ 
gether  without  speaking  to  a  human  being,  having  no  other 
company  than  his  rifle,  which  furnished  him  with  his  meat 
from  the  game  of  the  woods  or  the  fowls  of  the  river.  When 
the  sun  began  to  sink  behind  the  lofty  bluffs,  and  evening  to 
approach,  he  would  select  some  secluded  sandy  cove,  over¬ 
shadowed  by  the  lofty  cotton  wood,  draw  out  his  skid’  from 
the  water,  and  repair  to  the  woods  to  hunt  his  supper.  Hav¬ 
ing  killed  his  game  he  would  return,  dress,  cook,  and  from 
some  fallen  log  would  eat  it  with  his  biscuit,  with  no  “other 
beverage  than  the  wholesome  water  of  the  noble  river  that 
glided  by  him.  Having  finished  his  lonely  meal,  he  would 
roll  himself  in  his  blanket,  creep  under  his  frail  skiff,  which  he 
turned  over  to  shield  him  from  the  night  dews,  and  with  his 
portfolio  of  drawings  for  his  pillow,  and  the  sand  of  the  bar 
for  his  bed,  would  sleep  soundly  till  the  morning ;  when  he 
would  arise  from  his  lowly  couch,  eat  his  breakfast  before  the 
rays  of  the  rising  sun  had  dispersed  the  humid  mist  from  the 
surface  of  the  river, — then  would  start  fresh  to  his  task  again. 
In  this  way  he  spent  over  four  hundred  days,  making  the  pre¬ 
paratory  drawings.  Several  nights  during  the  time,  he  was 
compelled  to  creep  from  under  his  skiff  where  he  slept,  and  sit 
all  night  on  a  log,  and  breast  the  pelting  storm,  through  fear 
that  the  banks  of  the  river  would  cave  upon  him,  and  to  escape 
the  falling  trees.  During  this  time,  he  pulled  his  little  skiff 
more  than  two  thousand  miles.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  sum¬ 
mer  he  reached  New  Orleans.  The  yellow  fever  was  raging 
in  the  city,  but  unmindful  of  that,  he  made  his  drawing  of  the 
place.  The  sun  the  while  was  so  intensely  hot,  that  his  skin 
became  so  burnt  that  it  peeled  from  off  the  back  of  his  hands, 
and  from  his  face.  His  eyes  became  inflamed  by  such  constant 


A 


16 


and  extraordinary  efforts,  from  which  unhappy  effects  he  has 
not  recovered  to  this  day.  His  drawings  completed,  he  erected 
a  building  at  Louisville,  Kentucky,  to  transfer  them  to  the  can¬ 
vas.  His  object  in  painting  his  picture  in  the  West  was  to  ex¬ 
hibit  it  to,  and  procure  testimonials  from,  those  who  were  best 
calculated  to  judge  of  its  fidelity, — the  practical  river  men  ;  and 
he  has  procured  the  names  of  nearly  all  the  principal  captains 
and  pilots  navigating  the  Mississippi,  freely  testifying  to  the 
correctness  of  the  scenery. 

The  following  interesting  letter  from  S.  Woodworth,  an  offi¬ 
cer  of  the  United  States  navy,  who  passed  through  Louisville, 
bearer  of  despatches  to  Oregon  and  California,  to  his  friend  Gen. 
Morris,  at  New  York,  and  published  in  the  “Home  Journal”  of 
that  city,  gives  a  graphic  description  of  the  artist  as  he  appear¬ 
ed  at  work  upon  his  great  painting. 

St.  Louis,  April  13,  1846. 

“My  dear  General: — Here  I  am,  in  this  beautiful  city  of 
St.  Louis,  and  thus  far  £on  my  winding  way’  to  Oregon  and 
California.  In  coming  down  the  Ohio,  our  boat  being  of  the 
larger  class,  and  the  river  at  a  £  low  stage,’  we  were  detained 
several  hours  at  Louisville,  and  I  took  advantage  of  the  deten¬ 
tion  to  pay  a  visit  to  an  old  school-mate  of  mine,  one  of  the 
master  spirits  of  the  age.  I  mean  Banvard,  the  artist,  who  is 
engaged  in  the  herculean  task  of  painting  a  panorama  of  the 
Mississippi  river,  upon  more  than  three  miles  of  canvas'. — truth¬ 
fully  depicting  a  range  of  scenery  of  upwards  of  two  thousand 
miles  in  extent.  In  company  with  a  travelling  acquaintance, 
an  English  gentleman,  I  called  at  the  artist’s  studio,  an  im¬ 
mense  wooden  building,  constructed  expressly  for  the  purpose, 
at  the  extreme  outskirts  of  the  city.  After  knocking  several 
times,  I  at  length  succeeded  in  making  myself  heard,  when  the 
artist  himself,  in  his  working  cap  and  blouse,  pallet  and  pencil 
in  hand,  came  to  the  door  to  admit  us.  He  did  not  at  first  re¬ 
cognise  me,  but  when  I  mentioned  my  name,  he  dropped  both 
pallet  and  pencil,  and  clasped  me  in  his  arms,  so  delighted  was 
he  to  see  me,  after  a  separation  of  sixteen  years. 


17 


“  My  fellow-traveller  was  quite  astonished  at  this  sudden 
manifestation,  for  I  had  not  informed  him  of  our  previous  inti¬ 
macy,  but  had  merely  invited  him  to  accompany  me  to  see  in 
progress  this  wonder  of  the  world,  that  is  to  be,  this  leviathan 
panorama.  Banvard  immediately  conducted  us  into  the  inte¬ 
rior  of  the  building.  He  said  he  had  selected  the  site  for  his 
building,  far  removed  from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  town, 
that  he  might  apply  himself  more  closely  and  uninterruptedly 
to  his  labor,  and  be  free  from  the  intrusion  of  visitors.  Within 
the  studio,  all  seemed  chaos  and  confusion,  but  the  life-like  and 
natural  appearance  of  a  portion  of  his  great  picture,  displayed 
on  one  of  the  walls  in  a  yet  unfinished  state.  Here  and  there 
were  scattered  about  the  floor,  piles  of  his  original  sketches, 
bales  of  canvas,  and  heaps  of  boxes.  Paint-pots,  brushes,  jars 
and  kegs  were  strewed  about  without  order  or  arrangement, 
while  along  one  of  the  walls  several  large  cases  were  piled,  con¬ 
taining  rolls  of  finished  sections  of  the  painting.  On  the  oppo¬ 
site  wall  was  spread  a  canvas,  extending  its  whole  length,  up¬ 
on  which  the  artist  was  then  at  work.  A  portion  of  this  can¬ 
vas  was  wound  upon  an  upright  roller,  or  drum,  standing  at 
one  end  of  the  building,  and  as  the  artist  completes  his  paint¬ 
ing  he  thus  disposes  of  it.  Not  having  the  time  to  spare,  I  could 
not  stay  to  have  all  the  immense  cylinders  unrolled  for  our  in¬ 
spection,  for  we  were  sufficiently  occupied  in  examining  that 
portion  on  which  the  artist  is  now  engaged,  and  which  is  nearly 
completed,  being  from  the  mouth  of  the  Red  river  to  Grand 
Gulf.  Any  description  of  this  gigantic  undertaking  that  I 
should  attempt  in  a  letter,  would  convey  but  a  faint  idea  of  what 
it  will  be  when  completed.  The  remarkable  truthfulness  of 
the  minutest  objects  upon  the  shores  of  the  rivers,  independent 
of  the  masterly  style,  and  artistical  execution  of  the  work,  will 
make  it  the  most  valuable  historical  painting  in  the  world,  and 
unequalled  for  magnitude  and  variety  of  interest,  by  any  work 
that  has  ever  been  heard  of  since  the  art  of  painting  was  dis¬ 
covered.  As  a  medium  for  the  study  of  geography  of  this  por¬ 
tion  of  our  country,  it  will  be  of  inestimable  value.  The  man¬ 
ners  and  customs  of  the  aborigines  and  the  settlers — the  modes 

2* 


18 


of  cultivating  and  harvesting  the  peculiar  crops — cotton,  sugar, 
tobacco,  &c. — the  shipping  of  the  produce  in  all  the  variety  of 
novel  and  curious  conveyances  employed  on  these  rivers  for 
transportation,  are  here  so  vividly  portrayed,  that  but  a  slight 
stretch  of  the  imagination  would  bring  the  noise  of  the  puffing 
steamboats  from  the  river  and  the  songs  of  the  negroes  in  the 
fields,  in  music  to  the  ear,  and  one  seems  to  inhale  the  very  at  ¬ 
mosphere  before  him.  Such  were  the  impressions  produced  by 
our  slight  and  unfavorable  view  of  a  portion  of  this  great  pic¬ 
ture,  which  Banvard  expects  to  finish  this  summer.  It  will  be 
exhibited  in  New  York  in  the  autumn — after  which  it  will  be 
sent  to  London  for  the  same  purpose.  The  mode  of  exhibiting 
it  is  ingenious,  and  will  require  considerable  machinery.  It 
will  be  placed  upon  upright  revolving  cylinders,  and  the  can¬ 
vas  will  pass  gradually  before  the  spectator,  thus  affording  the 
artist  an  opportunity  of  explaining  the  whole  work.  After  ex¬ 
amining  many  other  beautiful  specimens  of  the  artist’s  skill, 
which  adorn  his  studio,  we  dined  together  in  the  city.  As  our 
boat  was  now  ready  to  start,  I  shook  hands  with  Banvard, 
who  parted  from  me  with  feelings  as  sad  as  they  had  been  be¬ 
fore  joyful.  His  life  has  been  one  of  curious  interest,  replete 
with  stirring  incidents,  and  I  was  greatly  amused  in  listening 
to  anecdotes  of  his  adventures  on  these  western  rivers,  where, 
for  many  years  past,  he  has  been  a  constant  sojourner,  indefat- 
igably  employed  in  preparing  his  great  work. 

Woodworth.” 

Banvard  was  a  self-taught  artist — no — he  had  a  teacher. 
He  went  not  to  Rome  indeed,  to  study  the  works  of  hands 
long  since  passed  away  ;  but  he  studied  the  omnipresent  works 
of  the  One  Great  Living  Master  ! — Nature  was  his  teacher. 
Many  a  time,  at  the  close  of  a  lovely  summer’s  day,  after  fin¬ 
ishing  his  solitary  evening  meal,  would  he  sit  upon  some  lone¬ 
ly  rock,  near  the  margin  of  the  noble  river,  when  all  was  still, 
save  the  sweet  chant  of  the  feathered  songsters  of  the  adjacent 
forest,  or  the  musical  ripple  of  the  eddying  waters  at  his  feet, 
and  watch  the  majestic  bluff  as  it  gradually  faded  through  the 


19 


gray  twilight  from  the  face  of  day  into  the  darker  shades  of 
night.  Then  would  he  turn  and  study  the  rising  moon,  as  it 
peered  above  the  opposite  shore,  ascending  the  deep  blue  ether 
high  in  the  heavens  above,  casting  its  mellow  light  over  the 
surrounding  landscape,  and  gilding  the  smooth  surface  of  the 
river  with  its  silvery  hue.  It  was  then  and  there  he  studied 
Nature  in  its  lonely  grandeur,  and  seized  those  glowing  moon¬ 
light  scenes  which  now  adorn  his  canvas,  so  vividly  too,  as  if 
painted  with  a  pencil  dipped  in  the  silvery  beams  of  the  living 
moon  itself. 

During  the  time  this  undaunted  young  man  was  transferring 
his  drawings  to  the  canvas,  he  had  to  practice  the  most  rigid 
economy,  lest  his  money  should  give  out  before  the  picture 
was  completed.  He  could  not  afford  to  hire  a  menial  assist¬ 
ant  to  do  the  ordinary  labor  about  his  paint-room:  and  when 
the  light  of  day  would  recede  from  the  canvas  upon  which 
he  was  at  work,  instead  of  taking  relaxation  when  the 
night  came,  he  would  be  found  grinding  his  colors  or  split¬ 
ting  his  wood  for  the  ensuing  day.  Still,  with  all  these  self- 
denials  and  privations,  his  last  cent  was  expended  long  before 
his  last  sketch  was  transferred  to  his  last  piece  of  canvas.  He 
then  endeavored  to  get  credit  for  a  few  pieces  of  this  material 
from  the  merchant  of  whom  he  had  purchased  the  principal 
part  for  his  painting,  and  with  whom  he  had  expended  hun¬ 
dreds  of  dollars  while  speculating  on  the  river,  but  in  vain. 
Still,  not  discouraged,  he  laid  his  favorite  project  aside  for  a 
time,  and  sought  other  work.  Fortunately,  he  obtained  a 
small  job  to  decorate  regalia  for  a  lodge  of  Odd  Fellows,  and 
with  a  light  heart  went  cheerfully  to  work  to  earn  the  money 
which  would  purchase  the  material  to  complete  his  picture. 
With  the  avails  he  procured  the  needed  canvas. 

At  last  his  great  project  is  finished  !  the  Mississippi  is  paint¬ 
ed  !  and  his  country  now  boasts  the  largest  painting  in  the 
world  !  But  the  trials  of  our  persevering  artist  were  not  all 
passed.  The  history  of  the  first  exhibition  of  this  wonderful 
production  is  curious,  and  furnishes  another  illustration  of  the 
necessity  there  is,  never  to  despair.  The  gas  company  of 


20 


Louisville,  before  they  would  put  up  fixtures  for  him,  com¬ 
pelled  him  to  deposite  double  the  price  of  such  fixtures  in  their 
bank.  To  raise  this  amount,  he  gave  a  piece  of  philosophical 
apparatus  to  a  society  in  the  city,  provided  they  bought  fifty 
tickets  in  advance.  They  agreed  to  this,  as  they  desired  the 
apparatus  very  much,  as  it  was  worth  twice  the  amount  they 
gave  for  the  tickets.  The  city  authorities  also  ordered  him  to 
pay  a  tax  for  exhibiting  his  work, — a  work  of  which  they 
ought  to  have  been  proud,  and  which  would  not  only  reflect 
honor  upon  the  city,  but  make  it  noted  throughout  the  civil¬ 
ized  world. 

The  first  night  he  opened  his  great  picture  for  exhibition  in 
Louisville,  not  a  single  person  thought  it  worth  while  to  visit 
it.  He  received  not  a  cent, — the  night  was  rainy.  The  artist 
returned  to  his  room  with  a  sorrowful  heart, — he  sat  down 
upon  a  box  and  looked  upon  the  blank  wall,  where,  but  a  few 
days  before,  with  high  spirits  and  cheerful  heart,  he  had  put 
the  finishing  touch  to  his  task  of  long  years  of  toil  and  hope. 
His  heart  almost  sank  within  him;  but  he  did  not  despair. 
The  next  day  he  sallied  out  among  the  boatmen  by  the  river, 
and  gave  them  tickets;  telling  them  they  must  see  it;  that  it 
was  their  river  he  had  painted.  At  night  the  boatmen  came, 
and  with  them  a  few  of  their  friends.  When  they  saw  the 
accuracy  of  the  painting  they  were  delighted,  and  their  wild 
enthusiasm  was  raised  as  one  well  known  object  after  another 
passed  by  them.  The  boatmen  told  the  citizens  it  was  a 
grand  affair  ;  that  it  was  correctly  delineated,  and  its  accuracy 
could  be  relied  upon.  Finally  the  public  became  convinced 
that  the  picture  was  really  worth  looking  at,  and  then  they 
rushed  to  see  it  by  hundreds. 

The  great  artist  left  the  city  and  went  to  Boston,  the 
££  Athens  of  America,”  where  his  beautiful  painting  was  duly 
appreciated.  Admiring  thousands  upon  thousands  visited  it, — 
many  coming  hundreds  of  miles, — from  the  remotest  parts  of 
New  England, — to  view  this  wonderful  production.  Indeed, 
so  great  was  the  desire  to  see  it,  that  the  railroad  companies  run 
express  trains  from  adjacent  towns  into  the  city  for  the  accom- 


21 


modation  of  the  eager  throngs  who  wished  to  view  the  great¬ 
est  achievement  of  individual  enterprise  upon  record.  And 
now  our  persevering  young  artist  is  justly  reaping  a  golden 
harvest,  having  already  made  a  fortune,  realizing  fifty  thou¬ 
sand  dollars  during  the  first  seven  months’  exhibition  in  Bos¬ 
ton  alone.  The  fame  of  the  artist  is  his  country’s  property. 
“  His  genius  and  enterprise  will  be  honored,”  as  Governor 
Briggs  beautifully  remarked,  “  so  long  as  the  great  Father  of 
Waters,  and  its  numerous  tributaries,  continue  to  pour  their 
flowing  tides  into  the  great  ocean.” 


MISSISSIPPI  RIVER. 


The  Mississippi  commences  in  many  branches,  that  rise, 
for  the  most  part,  in  wild  rice  lakes ;  but  it  traverses  no  great 
distance  before  it  has  become  a  broad  stream.  Sometimes  in 
its  beginnings  it  moves,  a  wide  expanse  of  waters,  with  a  cur¬ 
rent  scarcely  perceptible,  along  a  marshy  bed.  At  others,  its 
fishes  are  seen  darting  over  a  white  sand,  in  waters  almost  as 
transparent  as  air.  At  other  times  it  is  compressed  to  a  nar¬ 
row  and  rapid  current  between  ancient  and  hoary  limestone 
bluffs.  Having  acquired  in  a  length  of  course,  following  its 
meanders,  of  three  hundred  miles,  a  width  of  half  a  mile,  and 
having  formed  its  distinctive  character,  it  precipitates  its 
waters  down  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony.  Thence  it  glides,  al¬ 
ternately  through  beautiful  meadows  and  deep  forests,  swell¬ 
ing  in  its  advancing  march  with  the  tributes  of  an  hundred 
streams.  In  its  progress  it  receives  a  tributary,  which,  of  it¬ 
self,  has  a  course  of  more  than  a  thousand  leagues.  Thence 
it  rolls  its  accumulated,  turbid  and  sweeping  mass  of  waters 
through  continued  forests,  only  broken  here  and  there  by  the 
axe,  in  lonely  grandeur  to  the  sea.  No  thinking  mind  can 


22 


contemplate  this  mighty  and  resistless  wave,  sweeping  its 
proud  course  from  point  to  point,  curving  round  its  bends 
through  the  dark  forests,  without  a  feeling  of  sublimity.  The 
hundred  shores,  laved  by  its  waters;  the  long  course  of  its 
tributaries,  some  of  which  are  already  the  abodes  of  cultiva¬ 
tion,  and  others  pursuing  an  immense  course  without  a  soli¬ 
tary  dwelling  of  civilized  man  being  seen  on  its  banks;  the 
numerous  tribes  of  savages  that  now  roam  upon  its  borders ; 
the  affecting  and  imperishable  traces  of  generations  that  are 
gone,  leaving  no  other  memorials  of  their  existence,  or  mate¬ 
rials  for  their  history,  than  their  tombs,  that  rise  at  frequent 
intervals  along  its  banks ;  the  dim,  but  glorious  anticipations 
of  the  future  ; — these  are  subjects  of  contemplation  that  can¬ 
not  but  associate  themselves  with  the  view  of  this  river. 

The  Mississippi  runs  but  a  little  distance  from  its  source,  as 
we  have  remarked,  before  it  becomes  a  considerable  stream. 
Below  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony,  it  broadens  to  half  a  mile  in 
width  ;  and  is  a  clear,  placid  and  noble  stream,  with  wide  and 
fertile  bottoms,  for  a  long  distance.  A  few  miles  below  the 
river  Des  Moines,  is  a  long  rapid  of  nine  miles,  which,  for  a 
considerable  part  of  the  summer,  is  a  great  impediment  to  the 
navigation.  Below  these  rapids,  the  river  assumes  its  medial 
width  and  character  from  that  point  to  the  entrance  of  the  Mis¬ 
souri.  It  is  a  still  more  beautiful  river  than  the  Ohio,  some¬ 
what  gentler  in  its  current,  a  third  wider,  with  broad  and 
clean  sand  bars,  except  in  time  of  high  waters,  when  they  are 
all  covered.  A  very  little  distance,  there  are  islands,  some¬ 
times  a  number  of  them  parallel,  and  broadening  the  stream 
to  a  great  width.  These  islands  are  many  of  them  large,  and 
have  in  the  summer  season  an  aspect  of  beauty,  as  they  swell 
gently  from  the  clear  stream, — a  vigor  and  grandeur  of  veg¬ 
etation,  which  contribute  much  to  the  magnificence  of  the 
river.  The  sand  bars,  in  the  proper  season,  are  the  resort  of 
innumerable  swans,  geese  and  water  fowls.  It  is,  in  general, 
a  full  mile  in  width  from  bank  to  bank.  For  a  considerable 
distance  above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  it  has  more  than 
that  width.  Altogether,  it  has,  from  its  alternate  bluffs  and 


23 


prairies,  the  calmness  and  transparency  of  its  waters,  the  size 
and  beauty  of  its  trees,  an  aspect  of  amenity  and  magnifi¬ 
cence,  which  we  have  not  seen  belonging  in  the  same  extent 
to  any  other  stream. 

Where  it  receives  the  Missouri,  it  is  a  mile  and  a  half  wide. 
The  Missouri  itself  enters  with  a  mouth  not  more  than  half  a 
mile  wide.  The  united  stream  below  has  thence,  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio,  a  medial  width  of  little  more  than  three 
quarters  of  a  mile.  This  mighty  tributary  seems  rather  to 
diminish,  than  increase  its  width  ;  but  it  perceptibly  alters  its 
depth,  its  mass  of  waters,  and,  what  is  to  be  regretted,  wholly 
changes  its  character.  It  is  no  longer  the  gentle,  placid 
stream,  with  smooth  shores  and  clean  sand  bars ;  but  has  a 
furious  and  boiling  current,  a  turbid  and  dangerous  mass  of 
sweeping  waters,  jagged  and  dilapidated  shores,  and,  wher¬ 
ever  its  waters  have  receded,  deposites  of  mud.  It  remains  a 
sublime  object  of  contemplation.  The  noble  forest  still  rises 
along  its  banks.  But  its  character  of  calm  magnificence,  that 
so  delighted  the  eye  above,  is  seen  no  more. 

The  bosom  of  the  river  is  covered  with  prodigious  boils,  or 
swells,  that  rise  with  a  whirling  motion,  and  a  convex  sur¬ 
face,  two  or  three  rods  in  diameter,  and  no  inconsiderable 
noise,  whirling  a  boat  perceptibly  from  its  track.  In  its 
course,  accidental  circumstances  shift  the  impetus  of  its  cur¬ 
rent,  and  propel  it  upon  the  point  of  an  island,  bend,  or  sand 
bar.  In  these  instances,  it  tears  up  the  island,  removes  the 
sand  bars,  and  sweeps  away  the  tender,  alluvial  soil  of  the 
bends,  with  all  their  trees,  and  deposites  the  spoils  in  another 
place.  At  the  season  of  high  waters,  nothing  is  more  familiar 
to  the  ear  of  the  people  on  the  river,  than  the  deep  crash  of  a 
land-slip,  in  which  larger  or  smaller  masses  of  the  soil  on  the 
banks,  with  all  the  trees,  are  plunged  into  the  stream.  Such 
is  its  character  from  Missouri  to  the  Balize ;  a  wild,  furious, 
whirling  river, — never  navigated  safely,  except  with  great 
caution. 

No  person,  who  descends  this  river  for  the  first  time,  re¬ 
ceives  clear  and  adequate  ideas  of  its  grandeur,  and  the 


24 


amount  of  water  which  it  carries.  If  it  be  in  the  spring, 
when  the  river  below  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  is  generally  over 
its  banks,  although  the  sheet  of  water,  that  is  making  its  way 
to  the  gulf,  is  perhaps  thirty  miles  wide,  yet  finding  its  way 
through  deep  forests  and  swamps  that  conceal  all  from  the 
eye,  no  expanse  of  water  is  seen,  but  the  width  that  is  curved 
out  between  the  outline  of  woods  on  either  bank  ;  and  it  sel¬ 
dom  exceeds,  and  oftener  falls  short  of  a  mile.  But  when  he 
sees,  in  descending  from  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony,  that  it  swal¬ 
lows  up  one  river  after  another,  with  mouths  as  wide  as  it¬ 
self,  without  affecting  its  width  at  all ;  when  he  sees  it  receiv¬ 
ing  in  succession  the  mighty  Missouri,  the  broad  Ohio,  St. 
Francis,  White,  Arkansas,  and  Red  rivers,  all  of  them  of 
great  depth,  length  and  volume  of  water ;  when  he  sees  this 
mighty  river  absorbing  them  all,  and  retaining  a  volume,  ap¬ 
parently  unchanged, — he  begins  to  estimate  rightly  the  in¬ 
creasing  depths  of  current  that  must  roll  on  its  deep  channel 
to  the  sea.  Carried  out  of  the  Balize,  and  sailing  with  a  good 
breeze  for  hours,  he  sees  nothing  on  any  side,  but  the  white 
and  turbid  waters  of  the  Mississippi,  long  after  he  is  out  of 
sight  of  land. 

Touching  the  features  of  the  country  through  which  it 
passes,  from  its  source  to  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony,  it  moves 
alternately  through  wild  rice  lakes  and  swamps,  by  limestone 
bluffs  and  craggy  hills ;  occasionally  through  deep  pine  for¬ 
ests,  and  beautiful  prairies  ;  and  the  tenants  on  its  borders,  are 
elk,  buffaloes,  bears  and  deer,  and  the  savages  that  pursue 
them.  In  this  distance,  there  is  not  a  civilized  inhabitant  on 
its  shores,  if  we  except  the  establishment  of  Indian  traders, 
and  a  garrison  of  the  United  States. 

Above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  to  the  rapids  of  Des 
Moines,  the  medial  width  of  the  bottom  valley,  in  which  the 
river  rolls,  measured  from  bluff  to  bluff,  is  not  far  from  six 
miles.  Below  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  to  that  of  the  Ohio, 
is  not  far  from  eight  miles.  The  last  stone  bluffs  of  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi  are  seen,  in  descending,  about  thirty  miles  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio.  Below  these,  commences  on  the  Missis- 


sippi,  as  is  seen  on  the  Ohio  for  some  distance  above  its 
month,  the  aspect  of  a  timbered  bottom  on  either  side,  bound¬ 
less  to  the  vision.  Below  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  the  alluvion 
broadens  from  thirty  to  fifty  miles  in  width ;  still  expanding 
to  the  Balize,  where  it  is  probably  three  times  that  width. 
We  express  these  widths  in  terms  of  doubt,  because  three  fifths 
of  the  alluvion,  below  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  is  either  dead 
swamp  of  Cyprus  forest,  or  stagnant  lakes,  or  creeping  bayous, 
or  impenetrable  cane  brakes,  great  part  of  it  inundated  ;  per¬ 
haps  traversed  in  a  straight  direction  from  bluff  to  bluff, 
scarcely  once  in  a  year,  and  never  explored,  except  in  cases 
of  urgent  necessity.  The  bluffs,  too,  are  widening,  swelling 
in  one  direction,  and  indented  in  another,  and  at  least  as  ser¬ 
pentine  as  the  course  of  the  river. 

Between  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  and  St.  Louis,  on  the  west 
side  of  the  river,  the  bluffs  are  generally  near  it,  seldom  di¬ 
verging  from  it  more  than  two  miles.  They  are,  for  the  most 
part,  perpendicular  masses  of  limestone ;  sometimes  shooting 
up  into  towers  and  pinnacles,  presenting,  as  Mr.  Jefferson  well 
observed,  at  a  distance,  “the  aspect  of  the  battlements  and 
towers  of  an  ancient  city.”  Sometimes  the  river  sweeps  the 
bases  of  these  perpendicular  bluffs,  as  happens  at  the  Cornice 
rocks,  and  at  the  cliffs  above  St.  Genevieve.  They  rise  here, 
between  two  and  three  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
river.  There  are  many  imposing  spectacles  of  this  sort,  near 
the  western  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  in  this  distance.  We 
may  mention  among  them  that  gigantic  mass  of  rocks,  form¬ 
ing  a  singular  island  in  the  river,  called  the  “  Grand  Tower,”' 
and  the  shot  towers  at  Herculaneum. 

From  the  sources  of  the  river  to  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri, 
the  annual  flood  ordinarily  commences  in  March,  and  does 
not  subside  until  the  last  of  May;  and  its  medial  height  is 
fifteen  feet.  Between  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  and  the  St. 
Francis,  there  are  various  shoal  places,  where  pilots  are  often 
perplexed  to  find  a  sufficient  depth  of  water,  when  the  river 
is  low.  Below  that  point,  there  is  no  difficulty  for  vessels  of 
any  draught,  except  to  find  the  right  channel.  Below  the 
3 


26 


mouth  of  the  Ohio,  the  medial  flood  is  fifty  feet ;  the  highest 
sixty.  Above  Natchez,  the  flood  begins  to  decline.  At  Baton 
Rouge,  it  seldom  exceeds  thirty  feet ;  and  at  New  Orleans, 
twelve.  Some  have  supposed  this  gradual  diminution  of  the 
flood  to  result  from  the  draining  of  the  numerous  effluxes  of 
the  river,  that  convey  away  such  considerable  portions  of  its 
waters  by  separate  channels  to  the  sea.  To  this  should  be 
added,  no  doubt,  the  check,  which  the  river  at  this  distance 
begins  to  feel  from  the  re-action  of  the  sea,  where  this  mighty 
mass  of  descending  waters  finds  its  level. 

One  of  the  most  striking  peculiarities  of  this  river,  and  of 
all  its  lower  tributaries,  has  not  often  been  a  theme  of  obser¬ 
vation  in  describing  it.  It  is  the  uniformity  of  its  meanders, 
called  in  the  phrase  of  the  country,  its  “  points  and  bends.” 
In  many  instances  these  curves  are  described  with  a  precision, 
with  which  they  would  have  been  marked  off  by  the  sweep  of 
a  compass.  The  river  sweeps  round,  perhaps,  the  half  circle, 
and  is  precipitated  from  the  point,  in  a  current  diagonally 
across  its  own  channel,  to  another  curve  of  the  same  regularity 
upon  the  opposite  shore.  In  the  bend  is  the  deepest  channel, 
the  heaviest  movement  of  water,  and  what  is  called  the  thread 
of  the  current.  Between  this  thread  and  the  shore,  there 
are  generally  counter  currents,  or  eddies ;  and  in  the  crum¬ 
bling  and  tender  alluvial  soil,  the  river  is  generally  making 
inroads  upon  its  banks  on  the  bend  side.  Opposite  the  bend 
there  is  always  a  sand  bar,  matched,  in  the  convexity  of 
its  conformation,  to  the  concavity  of  the  bend.  Here  it  is, 
that  the  appearance  of  the  young  cotton  wood  groves  have 
their  most  striking  aspect.  The  trees  rise  from  the  shore, 
showing  first  the  vigorous  saplings  of  the  present  year ;  ahd 
then  those  of  a  date  of  two  or  three  years ;  and  trees  rising  in 
regular  gradation  to  the  most  ancient  and  lofty  point  of  the 
forest.  These  curves  are  so  regular  on  this,  and  all  the  rivers 
of  the  lower  country,  that  the  boatmen  and  Indians  calculate 
distances  by  them ;  and  instead  of  the  number  of  miles  or 
leagues,  they  estimate  their  progress  by  the  number  of  bends 
they  have  passed. 


THE  PANORAMA. 


RUSH  ISLAND 

And  Bar,  with  the  wreck  of  the  steamer  West  Wind,  snag¬ 
ged  here  in  June,  1846, — at  the  same  time  the  artist  was 
painting  this  portion  of  the  river.  This  was  a  very  unfortu¬ 
nate  boat,  having  been  previously  blown  up,  and  killing  a 
large  number  of  persons. 

BLUFFS  OF  SELMA. 

These  bluffs  have  a  very  striking  and  majestic  appearance, 
varying  from  two  to  four  hundred  feet  in  height  ;  some  of 
them  are  beautifully  variegated,  and  resemble  the  facades  of 
mighty  temples, — the  face  of  them  having  uniform  arches,  and 
carved  niches,  almost  as  regular  and  order-like  as  if  they  were 
chiselled  out  by  the  hands  of  man. 

HERCULANEUM, 

Standing  as  it  were  in  an  immense  natural  amphitheatre. 
The  high  rock  below  the  town  has  a  very  peculiar  castle-like 
appearance.  Further  up  the  river,  we  have  the  “Cornice 
Rocks  ”  and  the  Cornice  Island. 

PLATEEN  ROCKS, 

Extending  ten  or  twelve  miles  along  the  bank  the  river ; 
they  have  a  wild,  romantic  appearance,  some  of  them  shoot¬ 
ing  up  into  towers  and  spires,  and,  as  Jefferson  remarks,  not 
unlike  those  of  cities. 

JEFFERSON  BARRACKS, 

Pleasantly  situated  on  a  low  hill,  which  rises  gradually 
from  the  river,  presenting  a  very  fine  view  to  the  spectator 


28 


passing  on  a  boat,  and  calling  up  patriotic  emotions  as  he  be¬ 
holds  the  noble  star-spangled  banner  waving,  with  graceful 
folds,  in  the  loyal  western  air. 

YIDE  POUCHE,  (or,  in  English,  Empty  Pocket.) 

In  the  style  of  building,  the  taste  and  simplicity  of  the  old 
French  settlers  are  very  apparent.  The  French  have  a  fash¬ 
ion  of  annually  white-washing  their  houses,  which  produces  a 
pleasing  appearance  when  viewed  from  a  distance.  There 
were  a  number  of  villages  settled  by  the  French  in  this  neigh¬ 
borhood — one  at  Kaskaskia,  one  at  Vincennes,  and  several 
others.  They  were  all  characterized  as  a  people  of  great 
simplicity  and  innocence  of  life — social,  disinterested,  fond  of 
sport  and  gaiety ;  but  destitute  of  that  enterprise,  energy  of 
character,  and  aspiring  disposition,  which  the  Americans  ex¬ 
hibit.  Their  lands  were  generally  held  and  cultivated  in 
common,  and  their  little  communities  constituted,  as  it  were, 
but  one  great  family. 

UNITED  STATES  ARSENAL. 

It  is  beautifully  situated  on  a  gentle  declivity  immediately 
below  the  city,  at  the  foot  of  11  the  bar.”  A  short  distance  be¬ 
low  the  arsenal  commence  some  rocky  bluffs,  upon  which  are 
situated,  very  prominently,  several  lofty  shot  towers ;  they 
have  a  very  striking  appearance  when  viewed  from  the  river. 

ST.  LOUIS. 

St.  Louis  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  first  settled  towns  in  the 
Mississippi  Valley.  It  was  settled  and  occupied  by  the  French 
until  the  country  was  purchased  by  the  American  Govern¬ 
ment.  Aggreat  number  of  steamboats,  and  river  craft  of  all 
descriptions,  bound  to  all  points  of  the  boatable  waters  of  the 
Mississippi,  are  seen  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  lying  in  the 
harbor.  Miners,  trappers,  hunters,  adventurers,  emigrants, 
and  people  of  all  character  and  languages,  meet  here,  and  dis¬ 
perse  in  pursuit  of  their  various  objects,  in  every  direction, 
some  even  beyond  the  remotest  points  of  civilization.  Popu¬ 
lation  about  60,000. 


29 


BLOODY  ISLAND. 

The  name  being  given  to  it  from  the  number  of  duels  that 
have  been  fought  within  its  shades. 

MISSOURI  RIVER. 

This  is  the  largest  tributary  of  the  Mississippi  river,  dis¬ 
charging  more  water  into  the  channel  than  the  Upper  Missis¬ 
sippi  itself:  in  fact,  it  is  the  longer  river  of  the  two.  At  its 
confluence  it  is  about  half  a  mile  wide ;  the  united  stream 
from  this  point  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  has  a  medial  breadth 
of  about  a  mile.  This  mighty  tributary  appears  rather  to  di¬ 
minish,  than  to  increase  the  width,  but  it  materially  alters  the 
depth  of  the  channel. 

A  short  distance  above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  stands 
the  town  of  Alton,  situated  at  the  base  of  a  beautiful  bluff, 
which  rolls  in  on  the  river  in  a  graceful  outline  clearly  defined 
against  bright  sky  beyond.  i 

Immediately  in  the  foreground,  under  the  shade  of  some 
stately  elms,  is  an  encampment  of  Shawnee  Indians ;  the 
warriors  reclining  lazily  upon  the  greensward,  while  their 
squaws  are  preparing  their  rude  repast. 

Below  the  junction  of  the  Missouri  stand  out  in  fine  relief, 
some  very  beautiful  islands,  clad  in  the  brightest  verdure. 

MOUTH  OF  THE  OHIO. 

This  is  a  very  beautiful  stream,  called  by  the  French,  u  La 
Belle  Rivere.”  Its  banks  are  thickly  settled,  and  contain 
many  fine  cities. 

The  spectator  has,  at  the  Mouth  of  the  Ohio,  a  view  of 
three  States  at  one  time.  To  his  right,  he  will  see  the  State  of 
Kentucky ;  in  the  centre,  between  the  two  rivers,  the  State 
of  Illinois ;  to  his  left,  the  State  of  Missouri.  On  the  delta  of 
the  two  rivers  stands  the  city  of 

CAIRO, 

W  hich  like  New  Orleans  is  protected  by  levees  raised  above 
the  highest  known  floods — from  thence,  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 


30 


the  navigation  is  always  open  for  steamers  of  the  largest  class. 
Above  this  point,  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  in  winter,  are  often 
closed  by  ice,  and  in  summer,  impeded  by  low  water.  Hence 
the  importance  of  the  Central  Railroad  commenced  from  this 
place,  by  the  State,  to  connect  with  the  Illinois  and  Michigan 
Canal,  Galena  and  Chicago,  and  upon  which  was  expended 
a  million  of  dollars  ;  and  whenever  completed  will  form  the 
most  direct,  speedy  and  certain  route  at  all  seasons,  between 
the  South-western  and  Northern  States.  Cairo,  from  its  geo¬ 
graphical  position,  and  the  immense  range  of  navigable  rivers, 
all  centering  at  this  point,  is  destined  to  become  one  of  the 
largest  inland  cities  in  the  United  States. 

N.  B.  The  vieivs  of  the  'painting  above  the  mouth  of  the 
Ohio  are  all  on  the  western  shore ;  below  the  Ohio  they  are  all 
on  the  eastern  shore. 

IRON  BANKS 

And  the  town  of  Columbus  are  the  first  objects  that  strike 
the  eye  of  the  voyager  after  passing  the  Ohio.  They  are  in¬ 
troduced  into  the  picture  by  moonlight,  with  the  magnificent 
steamer  Peytona  wooding ;  one  of  the  largest  and  fastest  boats 
on  the  river,  commanded  by  Capt.  John  Shallcross,  a  well 
known  and  gentlemanly  commander  of  the  West.  In  the  dis¬ 
tance  can  be  seen  the 

CHALK  BANKS, 

A  high  bluff  of  white  clay,  and  falling  nearly  perpendicu¬ 
larly  to  the  river,  which  washes  its  base. 

MILLS  POINT. 

This  is  not  a  point  of  the  river,  but  a  point  or  spurr  of  high 
lands  that  strike  into  the  river,  and  affords  an  excellent  loca¬ 
tion  for  a  town.  In  the  foreground  of  the  view  is  a  diving 
bell  at  work  on  the  wreck  of  a  steamer. 


31 


INDIAN  MOUNDS 

And  Island  Number  Twenty-Five.  The  islands  on  the 
Mississippi,  below  the  Mouth  of  the  Ohio,  have  all  been  num¬ 
bered  ;  but,  at  present,  the  numbers  are  very  irregular,  owing 
to  the- circumstance  of  many  being  washed  away  by  the  force 
of  the  moving  waters;  the  “  chutes”  of  others  “  growing  up,” 
as  it  is  termed,  and  new  ones  continually  forming. 

This  “  growing  up”  of  the  islands  of  the  Mississippi,  is  one 
of  the  most  striking  characteristics  of  this  mighty  river,  and 
one  that  would  not  present  itself  to  the  eye  of  a  voyager  in 
passing  along  the  stream,  unless  the  islands  that  were  growing 
up  were  pointed  out,  and  the  philosophy  explained  to  him. 
This  singular  peculiarity  even  escaped  the  observation  of  Mr. 
Flint,  as  he  makes  no  allusion  to  it  in  his  excellent  description 
of  the  Mississippi,  contained  in  his  geography  of  the  Western 
Slates. 

The  cause  of  this  “  growing  up”  of  the  islands  is  this : — 
Where  the  current  strikes  diagonally  off  from  a  point  above 
the  head  of  an  island,  the  eddying  waters  produce  a  sand  bar 
under  the  point  at  the  mouth  of  the  “chute,”  or  channel, 
round  the  island.  Upon  this  bar  collects  the  alluvial  soil  of 
the  river,  from  which  spring  the  young  cotton  woods, — and 
being  of  very  rapid  growth,  soon  shoot  up  into  tall  trees  and 
completely  shut  out  the  channel  from  the  view  of  the  river. 
The  “chutes”  behind  the  islands  then  form  lakes.  Upon  the 
waters  of  these  lakes  congregate  all  kinds  of  aquatic  fowls, — 
swans,  geese,  ducks,  pelicans,  and  the  like.  These  lakes  are 
likewise  the  resort  of  alligators. 

PLUMB  POINT. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  places  to  boatmen  on  the 
Mississippi,  from  the  frequency  of  the  change  of  channel,  the 
snags,  bars,  and  sawyers.  A  large  number  of  steam,  and 
other  boats,  have  been  lost  here.  It  was  a  short  distance  from 
this  place  where  Murell,  the  notorious  land  pirate  and  robber, 
had  his  encampment. 

When  the  artist  first  descended  the  river,  the  small  flat  boat 


32 


on  which  he  was  travelling  laid  by  here ;  and  during  the 
night  the  boat  was  attacked  by  these  robbers,  and  it  was  only 
by  a  desperate  resistance,  during  which  one  of  the  robbers 
was  shot,  that  the  boat  was  rescued,  after  cutting  the  lines 
and  leaving  them  on  the  shore.  During  the  conflict,  Mr. 
Banvard  had  a  volley  of  shot  fired  at  him, — the  balls  whist¬ 
ling  past  and  splashing  in  the  river  by  him ;  but,  fortunately, 
none  of  them  took  effect,  although  several  struck  in  the  plank¬ 
ing  of  the  boat,  only  a  few  inches  from  him. 

FULTON, 

On  the  First  Chickasaw  Bluffs,  an  unimportant  town,  with 
the  town  of 

RANDOLPH, 

On  the  Second  Chickasaw  Bluffs,  seen  in  the  distance ;  the 
view  looking  down  the  chute  of  No.  Thirty-Four. 

MEMPHIS. 

This  city  is  beautifully  situated  on  the  Fourth  Chickasaw 
Bluffs,  presenting  a  very  fine  appearance  as  you  descend  the 
river.  It  is  laid  off  in  regular  streets,  and,  under  the  impulse 
of  its  enterprising  citizens,  it  is  fast  rising  in  importance.  It  is 
advantageously  situated  for  trade,  being  a  great  shipping  point 
for  cotton.  The  United  States  Naval  Depot  is  located  here. 
On  the  lower  end  of  the  “Fourth  Bluffs,”  is  situated  the 
town  of 

FORT  PICKERING, 

A  new  place  laid  off  by  speculators.  It  is  very  handsomely 
situated  opposite  the  head  of 

PRESIDENT’S  ISLAND, 

A  large  and  beautiful  island,  which  divides  the  river  just 
below.  Here  the  voyager  will  begin  to  see  fine  cotton  plan¬ 
tations,  with  the  slaves  working  in  the  cotton  fields.  He  will 
seethe  beautiful  mansions  of  the  planters,  rows  of  “negro 
quarters,”  and  lofty  Cyprus  trees,  the  pride  of  the  Southern 
forests.  A  little  farther  down  he  passes  the  town  of 


33 


COMMERCE, 

Situated  at  the  head  of  a  deep  bend  of  the  river. 

STACK  ISLAND, 

By  moonlight  Here  we  have  a  beautiful  view  of  about 
ten  miles  up  the  river, — the  island  in  the  centre  reposing 
quietly  upon  the  surface  of  the  river,  which  is  broken  by  the 
ripples  of  a  passing  steamer, — the  moon  observed  aloft,  shed¬ 
ding  its  mellow  light  and  gilding  the  surrounding  landscape 
with  its  silvery  hues. 

Here  we  have  the  first  view  of  the  Spanish  Moss,  hanging 
in  gloomy  grandeur  from  the  bough  of  the  cypress  trees ;  like¬ 
wise  the  Palmetto,  with  its  broad,  fan-like  leaf,  the  lofty  Cot¬ 
ton  Wood,  the  sea  grass,  the  impenetrable  canebrake,  and  all 
the  concomitants  of  a  Southern  forest. 

VICKSBURG, 

Situated  on  the  Walnut  Hills.  These  hills  come  in  and  ex¬ 
tend  along  on  the  river  for  about  two  miles.  They  rise  boldly, 
though  gradually,  with  alternate  swells  and  gullies,  to  the 
height  of  nearly  500  feet ;  and  present  one  of  the  most  beauti¬ 
ful  prospects  to  be  met  with  on  the  Lower  Mississippi.  At 
the  lower  end,  the  city  of  Vicksburg  is  situated,  on  the  shelv¬ 
ing  declivities  of  the  hills,  and  the  houses  are  scattered  in 
groups  on  the  terraces,  and  present  a  very  striking  view  as  the 
spectator  descends  the  river.  A  few  miles  farther  down  will 
be  seen  the  small  town  of 

WARRENTON, 

The  seat  of  justice  for  Warren  County,  Mississippi. 
PALMYRA  ISLAND, 

With  the  steamer  Uncle  Sam.  This  is  one  of  the  finest 
boats  on  the  river,  commanded  by  clever  officers,  and  makes 
very  regular  trips  from  Louisville  to  New  Orleans.  All  the 
steamboats  introduced  into  the  Panorama  of  the  Mississippi, 
are  correct  likenesses  of  boats  that  are  now  plying  on  those 
waters. 


34 


In  the  foreground  of  this  view  we  have  a  wood  yard,  and 
the  Pecan  tree  tresselled  with  the  Muscadine  vine.  After 
passing  these,  we  come  to  the  city  of 

GRAND  GULF, 

Situated  at  the  base  of  a  bold  and  solitary  bluff.  A  few  miles 
below  this  is  the 

PETITE  GULF 

And  the  town  of  Rodney.  A  few  miles  below  Rodney,  near 
the  point,  stands  a  very  fine  cotton  plantation  belonging  to 
General  Zachary  Taylor. 

NATCHEZ. 

This  city  is  romantically  situated  on  a  very  high  bluff  of  the 
east  bank  of  the  river,  and  is  much  the  largest  town  in  the 
State  of  Mississippi.  The  river  business  is  transacted  in  that 
part  of  the  city  which  is  called  “  under  the  hill.55  Great  num¬ 
bers  of  boats  are  always  lying  here.  Some  very  respectable 
merchants  reside  in  this  part  of  the  city.  The  upper  town  is 
elevated  on  the  summit  of  the  bluff,  300  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  river,  and  commands  a  fine  prospect  of  the  surrounding 
landscape.  It  is,  at  present,  supposed  to  contain  5000  inhab¬ 
itants.  It  is  300  miles  above  New  Orleans. 

ELLIS’S  CLIFFS. 

These  cliffs  have  a  very  peculiar  and  majestic  appearance ; 
being  of  sand,  the  rains  are  washing  them  off  into  a  variety 
of  fanciful  shapes,  some  of  them  resembling  towers  and  bat¬ 
tlements.  After  passing  these,  the  traveller  will  see  the  little 
town  of 

FORT  ADAMS, 

Romantically  situated  on  the  side  of  a  beautiful  hill,  with 
a  noble  bluff  just  below  the  village,  called  Loftus’s  Heights. 
Here  are  the  remains  of  an  old  fort,  erected  during  the  admin¬ 
istration  of  John  Adams,  in  honor  of  whom  it  was  named. 


35 


BAYOU  SARA, 

By  moonlight.  A  short  distance  above  this  town  stands  an 
old  dead  tree  scathed  by  the  fire,  where  three  negroes  were 
burnt  alive.  Each  of  them  had  committed  murder :  one  of 
them  murdered  his  mistress  and  her  two  daughters.  After 
passing  Bayou  Sara,  the  traveller  will  see  some  very  beautiful 
cliffs,  called  the 

WHITE  CLIFFS, 

On  which  are  situated  the  small  towns  of  Port  Hudson  and 
Port  Hickey,  and  immediately  below  these  is  the  very  pictu¬ 
resque  and  romantic  looking 

PROPHET;S  ISLAND. 

Here  formerly  lived  and  died  Wontongo,  an  Indian  prophet, 
— the  last  of  his  tribe. 

BATON  ROUGE. 

This  is  now  the  capital  of  the  state  of  Louisiana.  This 
place  is  handsomely  situated  on  the  last  bluff  that  is  seen  in 
descending  the  river. 

From  Baton  Rouge,  the  river  below  to  New  Orleans,  is 
lined  with  splendid  sugar  plantations,  and  what  is  generally 
termed  the  “  Coast,” — a  strip  of  land  on  either  side  of  the 
river  extending  back  to  the  cypress  swamps,  about  two  miles. 
It  is  the  richest  soil  in  the  world,  and  will  raise  nearly  all  the 
tropical  fruits. — oranges,  figs,  olives,  and  the  like.  This 
coast  is  protected  from  inundations  by  an  embankment  of 
earth  of  six  or  eight  feet  in  height,  called  a  levee.  Behind  the 
levee,  we  see  extensive  sugar  fields,  noble  mansions,  beautiful 
gardens,  large  sugar  houses,  groups  of  negro  quarters,  lofty 
churches,  splendid  villas,  presenting,  in  all,  one  of  the  finest 
views  of  country  to  be  met  with  in  the  United  States.  T  he 
inhabitants  are  chiefly  native  French  or  Creoles. 

Just  before  arriving  at  New  Orleans,  will  be  seen  a  beauti¬ 
fully  situated  town  in  the  bend  above,  called 


36 


CARROLTON 

From  this  point  there  is  a  railroad  extending  to  the  centre 
of  New  Orleans.  After  passing  a  left  hand  point,  the  travel¬ 
ler  will  be  off  the  city  of 

LA  FAYETTE. 

This  is  attached  to  New  Orleans,  but  under  a  separate  cor¬ 
poration.  It  is  where  all  the  flat  boats  land  that  descend  the 
river. 

NEW  ORLEANS. 

This  is  the  great  commercial  emporium  of  the  South,  situ¬ 
ated  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  river,  in  a  bend  so  deep  and 
sinuous,  that  the  sun  rises  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  over 
the  opposite  shore.  It  stands  in  latitude  north,  29°  57'  and 
13°  9'  west  from  Washington,  and  about  one  thousand  miles 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  river,  and  a  little  more  than  one 
thousand  two  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri. 

Viewed  from  the  harbor  on  a  sunny  day.  no  city  offers  a 
more  striking  panoramic  view.  It  envelopes  the  beholder 
something  in  the  form  of  a  crescent.  An  area  of  many  acres, 
covered  with  all  the  grotesque  variety  of  flat  boats,  keel  boats, 
and  water  craft  of  every  description,  that  have  floated  from 
all  points  of  the  valley  above,  lines  the  upper  part  of  the  shore. 
Steamboats  rounding  to,  or  sweeping  away,  cast  their  long 
horizontal  streams  of  smoke  behind  them.  Sloops,  schooners, 
brigs  and  ships  occupy  the  wharves,  arranged  below  each 
other  in  the  order  of  their  size,  showing  a  forest  of  masts. 
The  foreign  aspect  of  the  stuccoed  houses  in  the  city  proper, 
the  massive  buildings  of  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Mary,  the  buktle 
and  movement  on  every  side,  all  seen  at  one  view  in  the  bright 
coloring  of  the  brilliant  sun  and  sky  of  the  climate,  present  a 
splendid  spectacle. 


LIFE  ON  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


The  greater  part  of  the  commercial  intercourse  of  the  coun¬ 
try  is  with  New  Orleans,  by  the  river  Mississippi,  in  boats. 
These  are  so  various  in  their  kinds,  and  so  curious  in  their 
construction,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  reduce  them  to  spe¬ 
cific  classes  and  divisions.  No  form  of  water  craft  so  whim¬ 
sical,  no  shape  so  outlandish,  can  well  be  imagined,  but  what, 
on  descending  to  New  Orleans,  it  may  somewhere  be  seen 
lying  to  the  shore,  or  floating  on  the  river.  The  New  York 
canal  is  generating  monstrous  conceptions  of  this  sort ;  and 
there  will  soon  be  a  rivalry  between  the  East  and  the  West, 
which  can  create  the  most  ingenious  floating  river  monsters  of 
passage  and  transport. 

But  the  boats  of  passage  and  conveyance,  that  remain  after 
the  invention  of  steam  boats,  and  are  still  important  to  those 
objects,  are  keel  boats,  and  flats.  The  flat  boats  are  called, 
in  the  vernacular  phrase,  “  Kentucky  flats,”  or  “  broad  horns.” 
They  are  simply  an  oblong  ark,  with  a  roof  slightly  curved 
from  the  centre  to  shed  rain.  They  are  generally  about  fif¬ 
teen  feet  wide,  and  from  fifty  to  eighty,  and  sometimes  an 
hundred  feet  in  length.  The  timbers  of  the  bottom  are  mas. 
sive  beams,  and  they  are  intended  to  be  of  great  strength,  and 
to  carry  a  burden  of  from  two  to  four  hundred  barrels.  Great 
numbers  of  cattle,  hogs  and  horses  are  conveyed  to  market  in 
them.  We  have  seen  family  boats  of  this  description,  fitted 
up  for  the  descent  of  families  to  the  lower  country,  with  a 

4 


38 


stove,  comfortable  apartments,  beds,  and  arrangements  for 
commodious  liabitancy.  We  see  in  them,  ladies,  servants, 
cattle,  horses,  sheep,  dogs  and  poulry,  all  floating  on  the  same 
bottom  ;  and  on  the  roof,  the  looms,  ploughs,  spinning  wheels 
and  domestic  implements  of  the  family. 

Much  of  the  produce  of  the  upper  country,  even  after  the 
invention  of  steam  boats,  continues  to  descend  to  New  Orleans 
in  Kentucky  flats.  They  generally  carry  three  hands,  and 
perhaps  a  supernumerary  fourth  hand,  a  kind  of  supercargo. 
This  boat,  in  the  form  of  a  parallelogram,  lying  flat  and  dead 
in  the  water,  and  with  square  timbers  below  its  bottom  planks, 
and  carrying  such  a  great  weight,  runs  on  a  sand  bar  with  a 
strong  headway,  and  ploughs  its  timbers  into  the  sand  ;  and 
it  is,  of  course,  a  work  of  extreme  labor  to  get  the  boat  afloat 
again.  Its  form  and  its  weight  render  it  difficult  to  give  it  a 
direction  with  any  power  of  oars.  Hence,  in  the  shallow 
waters,  it  often  gets  aground.  When  it  has  at  length  cleared 
the  shallow  waters,  and  gained  the  heavy  current  of  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi,  the  landing  such  an  unwieldy  water  craft,  in  such  a 
current,  is  a  matter  of  no  little  difficulty  and  danger. 

All  the  toil,  and  danger,  and  exposure,  and  moving  inci¬ 
dents  of  this  long  and  perilous  voyage,  are  hidden,  however, 
from  the  inhabitants,  who  contemplate  the  boats  floating  by 
their  dwellings  on  beautiful  spring  mornings,  when  the  ver¬ 
dant  forest,  the  mild  and  delicious  temperature  of  the  air,  the 
delightful  azure  of  the  sky  of  this  country,  the  fine  bottom  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  romantic  bluff  on  the  other,  the  broad 
and  smooth  stream  rolling  calmly  down  the  forest,  and  float¬ 
ing  the  boat  gently  forward,  present  delightful  images  and  as¬ 
sociations  to  the  beholders.  At  this  time,  there  is  no  visible 
danger,  or  call  for  labor.  The  boat  takes  care  of  itself;  and 
little  do  the  beholders  imagine,  how  different  a  scene  may  be 
presented  in  half  an  hour.  Meantime,  one  of  the  hands 
scrapes  a  violin,  and  the  others  dance.  Greeting,  or  rude  de¬ 
fiances,  or  trials  of  wit,  or  proffers  of  love  to  the  girls  on  shore, 
or  saucy  messages,  are  scattered  between  them  and  the  spec¬ 
tators  along  the  banks.  The  boat  glides  on  until  it  disappears 


39 


behind  the  point  of  wood.  At  this  moment,  perhaps,  the 
bugle,  with  which  all  the  boats  are  provided,  strikes  up  its 
note  in  the  distance  over  the  water.  These  scenes,  and  these 
notes,  echoing  from  the  bluffs  of  the  noble  Mississippi,  have  a 
charm  for  the  imagination,  which  although  heard  a  thousand 
times  repeated,  at  all  hours  and  positions,  present  the  image  of 
a  tempting  and  charming  youthful  existence,  that  naturally 
inspires  a  wish  to  be  a  boatman. 

No  wonder  that  to  the  young,  who  are  reared  in  these  re¬ 
mote  regions,  with  that  restless  curiosity  which  is  fostered  by 
solitude  and  silence,  and  who  witness  scenes  like  this  so  fre¬ 
quently,  the  severe  and  unremitting  labors  of  agriculture,  per¬ 
formed  directly  in  the  view  of  such  spectacles,  should  become 
tasteless  and  irksome.  No  wonder,  that  the  young,  along  the 
banks  of  the  great  streams,  should  detest  the  labors  of  the 
field,  and  embrace  every  opportunity,  either  openly,  or  if 
minors,  covertly  to  escape,  and  devote  themselves  to  the  per¬ 
nicious  employment  of  boating.  In  this  view,  we  may  ac¬ 
count  for  the  detestation  of  the  inhabitants,  along  these  great 
streams,  of  steam  boats,  which  are  continually  diminishing 
the  number  of  all  other  boats  and  boatmen,  and  which  have 
already  withdrawn  probably  ten  thousand  from  that  employ¬ 
ment.  We  have  seen  what  is  the  character  of  this  employ¬ 
ment,  notwithstanding  all  its  seductions.  In  no  employment 
do  the  hands  so  soon  wear  out.  It  is  comparatively  but  a  few 
years,  since  these  waters  have  been  navigated  in  any  way. 
Yet  at  every  bend,  and  every  high  point  of  the  rivers,  where 
you  go  on  shore  for  a  njoment,  you  may  expect  to  see  the 
narrow  mound,  and  the  rude  monument,  and  the  coarse  me¬ 
morial  carved  on  an  adjoining  tree  by  brother  boatmen,  to 
mark  the  spot  where  an  exhausted  boatman  yielded  his  breath 
and  was  buried. 

A  good  landing  place  on  the  Mississippi,  towards  evening, 
generally  brings  up  the  descending  flat  boats,  where  they  lay 
by  all  night;  and  this  is  an  excellent  point  of  observation, 
from  which  to  contemplate  their  aspect,  the  character  of  boat¬ 
ing  and  the  descriptions  and  the  amount  of  produce  from  the 


40 


upper  country.  You  can  here  take  an  imaginary  voyage  to 
the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  or  Missouri  ;  to  the  lead  mines  of 
Rock  River,  or  to  Chicago  of  Lake  Michigan ;  to  Tippecanoe 
of  the  Wabash,  Orleanne  point  of  the  Alleghany,  Brownsville 
of  the  Monougahela,  the  Saline  of  the  Kenhawa,  or  the  moun¬ 
tains,  round  whose  bases  winds  the  Tennessee ;  or,  if  you 
choose,  you  may  take  the  cheap  and  rapid  journey  of  thought 
along  the  courses  of  an  hundred  other  rivers;  and  in  the  lapse 
of  a  few  days’  residence  in  the  spring,  at  this  point,  you  may 
see  boats,  which  have  arrived  here  from  all  these  imagined 
places.  The  boisterous  gaiety  of  the  hands,  the  congratula¬ 
tions  of  acquaintances,  who  have  met  here  from  immense  dis¬ 
tances,  the  moving  picture  of  life  on  board  the  boats,  in  the 
numerous  animals,  large  and  small,  which  they  carry,  their 
different  ladings,  the  evidence  of  the  increasing  agriculture 
above,  and,  more  than  all,  the  immense  distances  which  they 
have  already  traversed,  afford  a  copious  fund  of  meditation. 
In  one  place  there  are  boats  loaded  with  pine  plank,  from  the 
pine  forests  of  the  south-west  of  New  York.  In  another 
quarter  there  are  numerous  boats  with  the  “  Yankee  notions” 
of  Ohio.  In  another  quarter  are  landed  together  the  boats 
of  “  old  Kentucky,”  with  their  whiskey,  hemp,  tobacco,  bag¬ 
ging  and  bale  rope ;  with  all  the  articles  of  the  produce  of 
their  soil.  From  Tennessee  there  are  the  same  articles,  to¬ 
gether  with  boats  loaded  with  bales  of  cotton.  From  Illinois 
and  Missouri,  cattle,  horses,  and  the  general  produce  of  the 
western  country,  together  with  peltry  and  lead  from  Missouri. 
Some  boats  are  loaded  with  corn  in  bulk  and  in  the  ear. 
Others  with  barrels  of  apples  and  potatoes,  and  great  quanti¬ 
ties  of  dried  apples  and  peaches.  Others  have  loads  of  cider, 
that  has  been  strengthened  by  boiling  or  freezing.  Other 
boats  are  loaded  with  furniture,  tools,  domestic  and  agricul¬ 
tural  implements ;  in  short,  the  numerous  products  of  the  in¬ 
genuity,  speculation,  manufacture  and  agriculture  of  the 
whole  upper  country  of  the  West.  They  have  come  from  re¬ 
gions,  thousands  of  miles  apart.  They  have  floated  to  a 
common  point  of  union.  The  surface  of  the  boats  covers 


41 


some  acres.  Fowls  are  fluttering  over  the  roofs,  as  invari¬ 
able  appendages.  The  piercing  note  of*  the  chanticleer  is 
heard.  .  The  cattle  low.  The  horses  trample,  as  in  their 
stables.  The  swine  utter  the  cries  of  fighting  with  each 
other.  The  turkeys  gobble.  The  dogs  of  an  hundred  regions 
become  acquainted.  The  boatmen  travel  about  from  boat  to 
boat,  make  inquiries  and  acquaintances,  agree  to  “lash 
boats,”  as  it  is  called,  and  form  alliances  to  yield  mutual  as¬ 
sistance  to  each  other  on  the  way  to  New  Orleans.  After  an 
hour  or  two  passed  in  this  way,  they  spring  on  shore,  to 
“raise  the  wind”  in  the  village.  If  they  tarry  all  night,  as 
is  generally  the  case,  it  is  well  for  the. people  of  the  town  if 
they  do  not  become  riotous  in  the  course  of  the  evening ;  in 
which  case,  strong  measures  are  adopted,  and  the  proceedings 
on  both  sides  are  summary  and  decisive.  With  the  first 
dawn,  all  is  bustle  and  motion ;  and  amidst  shouts,  and 
trampling  of  cattle,  and  barking  of  dogs,  and  crowing  of  fowls, 
the  fleet  is  in  half  an  hour  all  under- weigh ;  and  when  the 
sun  rises,  nothing  is  seen  but  the  broad  stream  rolling  on  as 
before.  These  boats  unite  once  more  at  Natchez  and  New 
Orleans ;  and  although  they  live  on  the  same  river,  it  is  im¬ 
probable  that  they  will  ever  meet  again  on  the  earth. 

In  passing  below,  we  often  see  a  number  of  boats  lashed, 
and  floating  together.  In  travelling  over  the  roofs  of  the  float¬ 
ing  town,  you  have  a  considerable  walk.  These  associations 
have  various  objects.  Boats  so  united,  as  is  well  known,  float 
considerably  faster.  Perhaps  the  object  is  to  barter,  and  ob¬ 
tain  supplies.  Perhaps  it  is  to  kill  beef  or  pork,  for  fresh  pro¬ 
visions.  Apples,  cider,  nuts,  dried  fruit,  whiskey,  peach 
brandy,  and  drams  are  retailed ;  and  the  concern  is,  for  a 
while,  one  of  great  merriment  and  good  will.  Unforseen 
moral  storms  arise ;  and  the  partnership,  which  began  in  a 
frolic,  ends  in  a  quarrel.  The  aggrieved  discharge  a  few  mu¬ 
tual  volleys  of  the  compliments  usually  interchanged  on  such 
occasions,  unlash,  and  each  one  manages  his  boat  in  his  own 
way. 

The  order  of  things  in  the  western  country,  naturally  fos- 
4* 


4 


42 


ters  a  propensity  for  a  floating  life  on  the  water.  The  inhab¬ 
itants  will  ultimately  become  as  famous  as  the  Chinese,  for 
having  their  habitancy  in  boats.  In  time  of  high  waters  at 
the  month  of  the  Ohio,  we  were  on  board  an  immensely  large 
flat  boat  on  which  was  “  kept  a  town,”  which  had  figured  in 
the  papers,  as  a  place  that  bade  fair  to  rival  the  ancient  me¬ 
tropolis  of  the  Delta  of  the  Nile.  The  tavern,  the  retail  and 
dram  shops,  together  with  the  inhabitants,  and  no  small  num¬ 
ber  of  very  merry  customers,  floated  on  the  same  bottom. 
We  have  seen  a  large  tinner’s  establishment  floating  down  the 
Mississippi.  It  was  a’ respectable  manufactory ;  and  the  ar¬ 
ticles  were  sold  wholesale  and  retail.  There  were  three  apart¬ 
ments,  and  a  number  of  hands.  When  they  had  mended  all 
the  tin,  and  vended  all  that  they  could  sell  in  one  place,  they 
floated  on  to  another. 

A  piece  goods  store,  united  with  a  bookstore,  is  no  uncom¬ 
mon  establishment.  We  have  seen  a  large  floating  black¬ 
smith’s  establishment;  and  another,  in  which  it  was  contem¬ 
plated  to  work  a  trip  hammer.  Besides  the  numerous  pe- 
riogues,  or  singular  looking  Spanish  and  French  trading  retail 
boats,  commonly  called  u  chicken  thieves,”  which  scour  the 
rivers  within  an  hundred  leagues  of  New  Orleans,  there  are 
on  all  the  waters  of  the  West,  retail  trading  boats.  They  are 
often  fitted  up  with  no  inconsiderable  ingenuity  and  show. 
The  goods  are  fancifully  arranged  on  shelves.  The  delicate 
hands  of  the  vender  would  bear  a  comparison  with  those  of 
the  spruce  clerk  behind  our  city  counters.  Every  consider¬ 
able  landing  place  on  the  waters  of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi 
has,  in  the  spring,  a  number  of  stationary  and  inhabited  boats 
lying  by  the  shores.  They  are  too  often  dram  shops,  and  re¬ 
sorts  of  all  kinds  of  bad  company.  A  severe  inquiry  ought  to 
be  instituted  at  all  these  points,  respecting  the  inmates  and 
practices  of  these  floating  mansions  of  iniquity. 

There  is  no  portion  of  the  globe,  where  the  invention  of 
steamboats  should  be  so  highly  appreciated,  as  in  the  valley 
of  the  Mississippi.  This  invention  deserves  to  be  estimated 
the  most  memorable  era  of  the  West ;  and  the  name  of  the 


t 


43 


inventor  ought  to  be  handed  down  with  glory  to  the  genera¬ 
tions  to  come.  No  triumph  of  art  over  the  obstacles  of  na¬ 
ture  has  ever  been  so  complete.  But  for  this  invention,  this 
valley  might  have  sustained  a  nation  of  farmers  and  planters ; 
and  the  comforts,  the  arts,  refinement  and  intelligence  of  the 
day  would  have  made  their  way  slowly  from  New  Orleans 
to  the  lakes,  the  sources  of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  Thousands  of  boatmen  would  have  been  slowly 
and  laboriously  warping,  and  rowing,  and  poling,  and  cord- 
elling  their  boats  in  a  three  months’  trip  up  these  mighty 
and  long  streams,  which  are  now  ascended  by  steamboats  in 
ten  days.  It  may  be  safely  asserted,  that  in  many  respects, 
the  improvements  of  fifty  years  without  steamboats,  were 
brought  to  this  country  in  five  years  after  their  invention. 
The  distant  points  of  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi  used  to  be 
separated  by  distances  and  obstacles  of  transit  more  formi¬ 
dable,  in  the  passing,  than  the  Atlantic.  These  points  are 
now  brought  into  juxtaposition.  Distances  on  the  rivers  are 
not  indeed  annihilated ;  but  they  are  diminished  to  about  an 
eighth  of  their  former  extent;  and  their  difficulties  and  dan¬ 
gers  are  reduced  even  more  than  that.  All  the  advantages 
of  long  rivers,  such  as  variety  of  soil,  climate,  productions, 
remain  divested  of  all  the  disadvantages  of  distance  and  diffi¬ 
culty  of  ascent.  The  day  that  commemorates  this  invention, 
should  be  a  holiday  of  interest,  only  second  to  that  which 
gave  birth  to  the  nation. 

It  is  perhaps  necessary  to  have  something  of  the  experi¬ 
ence,  which  we  have  had,  of  the  slowness,  difficulty  and 
danger  of  propelling  boats  against  the  current  of  these  long 
rivers,  fully  to  estimate  the  advantages  of  this  invention. — 
We  have  ascended  the  Mississippi  in  this  way  for  fifty  days 
in  succession.  We  have  had  but  too  much  of  the  same  kind 
of  experience  on  the  other  streams.  We  consider  ten  miles  a 
day  as  good  progress.  It  is  now  refreshing,  and  it  imparts  a 
feeling  of  energy  and  power  to  the  beholder,  to  see  the  large 
and  beautiful  steamboats  scudding  up  the  eddies,  as  though 
on  the  wing.  When  they  have  run  out  the  eddy,  and  strike 


44 


the  current,  it  is  a  still  more  noble  spectacle.  The  foam 
bursts  in  a  sheet  quite  over  the  deck.  The  boat  quivers  for 
a  moment  with  the  concussion  ;  and  then,  as  though  she  had 
collected  energy,  and  vanquished  her  enemy,  she  resumes  her 
stately  march,  and  mounts  against  the  current  ten  or  twelve 
miles  an  hour.  We  have  travelled  ten  days  together  between 
New  Orleans  and  Louisville,  more  than  an  hundred  miles  in 
a  day  against  the  stream.  The  difficulty  of  ascending  used 
to  be  the  only  one  that  was  dreaded  in  the  anticipation  of  a 
voyage  of  this  kind.  This  difficulty  has  now  disappeared, 
and  the  only  one  that  remains,  is  to  furnish  money  for  the 
trip.  Even  the  expense,  considering  the  luxury  of  the  fare 
and  accommodation,  is  more  moderate  than  could  be  expect¬ 
ed.  A  family  in  Pittsburg  wishes  to  make  a  social  visit  to  a 
kindred  family  on  Red  River.  The  trip,  as  matters  now 
stand,  is  but  two  thousand  miles.  Servants,  baggage,  or 
“  plunder,”  as  the  phrase  is,  the  family  and  the  family  dog, 
cat  and  parrot,  all  go  together.  In  eight  days  they  reach 
the  point  proposed.  Even  the  return  is  but  a  short  voyage. 
Surely  we  must  resist  strong  temptations,  if  we  do  not  be¬ 
come  a  social  people.  You  are  invited  to  a  breakfast  at 
seventy  miles  distance.  You  go  on  board  the  passing  steam¬ 
boat,  and  are  transported,  during  the  night,  so  as  to  go  out 
in  the  morning  and  reach  your  appointment.  The  day  will 
probably  come,  when  the  inhabitants  of  the  warm  and  sickly 
regions  of  the  lower  points  of  the  Mississippi  will  take  their 
periodical  migrations  to  the  north,  with  the  geese  and  swans, 
and  with  them  return  to  the  south  in  the  autumn. 

We  have  compared  the  most  beautiful  steamboats  of  the 
Atlantic  waters  with  those  of  the  Mississippi;  and  we  have 
seen  none,  which,  in  splendor  and  striking  effect  upon  the 
eye,  and  the  luxury  and  comfort  of  accommodation,  surpass 
the  Western  boats.  We  have  been  amused  in  observing  an 
Atlantic  stranger,  who  had  heard  us  described  by  the  phrase, 
“  backwoods  men,”  taking  his  first  survey  of  such  a  steam¬ 
boat.  If  there  be  any  ground  of  complaint,  it  is,  that  so  much 
gorgeousness  offends  good  taste,  and  seems  to  be  in  opposition 


45 


to  that  social  ease  and  comfort,  which  one  would  desire  in 
such  a  place.  Certainly,  there  can  be  no  comparison  between 
the  comfort  of  the  passage  from  Cincinnati  to  New  Orleans  in 
such  a  steamboat,  and  a  voyage  at  sea.  The  barren  and 
boundless  expanse  of  waters  soon  tires  upon  every  eye  but  a 
seaman’s.  And  then  there  are  storms,  and  the  necessity  of 
fastening  the  tables,  and  of  holding  to  something  to  keep  in 
bed.  There  is  the  insupportable  nausea  of  sea  sickness,  and 
there  is  danger.  Here  you  are  always  near  the  shore,  always 
see  the  green  earth ;  can  always  eat,  write,  and  study,  undis- 
‘  turbed.  You  can  always  obtain  cream,  fowls,  vegetables, 
fruit,  fresh  meat  and  wild  game,  in  their  season,  from  the 
shore. 

A  stranger  to  this  mode  of  travelling  would  find  it  difficult 
to  describe  his  impressions  upon  descending  the  Mississippi 
for  the  first  time  in  one  of  these  steamboats,  which  we  have 
named.  He  contemplates  the  prodigious  construction,  with 
its  double  tiers  of  cabins,  and  its  separate  establishment  for 
the  ladies,  and  its  commodious  arrangements  for  the  deck  pas¬ 
sengers  and  the  servants.  Over  head,  about  him,  and  below 
him,  all  is  life  and  movement.  He  contemplates  the  splendor 
of  the  cabin,  its  beautiful  finishing  of  the  richest  woods,  its 
rich  carpeting,  its  mirrors  and  fine  furniture,  its  sliding  tables, 
its  bar  room,  and  all  its  arrangements  for  the  accommodation 
of  two  hundred  cabin  passengers.  The  fare  is  sumptuous,  and 
every  thing  in  a  style  of  splendor,  order,  and  quiet,  far  ex¬ 
ceeding  most  city  taverns.  You  read,  converse,  walk,  or 
sleep,  as  you  choose.  Arou  are  not  burdened  by  the  restraint 
of  useless  ceremony.  The  varied  and  verdant  scenery  shifts 
about  you.  The  trees,  the  green  islands,  the  houses  on  the 
shore,  every  thing  has  an  appearance,  as  by  enchantment,  of 
moving  past  you.  The  river  fowl,  with  their  white  and  ex¬ 
tended  lines,  are  wheeling  their  flight  above  you.  The  sky  is 
bright.  The  river  is  dotted  with  boats  above,  beside,  and  be¬ 
low  you.  You  hear  the  echo  of  their  bugle  reverberating 
from  the  woods.  Behind  the  wooded  point,  you  see  the  as¬ 
cending  column  of  smoke  rising  over  the  trees,  which  announ- 


46 


ces  that  another  steamboat  is  approaching  you.  The  moving 
pageant  glides  through  a  narrow  passage,  between  an  island, 
thick  set  with  young  cotton  woods,  so  even,  so  beautiful  and 
regular,  that  they  seem  to  have  been  planted  for  a  pleasure 
ground,  on  the  main  shore.  As  you  shoot  out  again  into  the 
broad  stream,  you  come  in  view  of  a  plantation  with  all  its 
busy  and  cheerful  accompaniments.  At  other  times,  you  are 
sweeping  along  for  many  leagues  together,  where  either  shore 
is  a  boundless  and  pathless  wilderness.  A  contrast  is  thus 
strongly  forced  upon  the  mind,  of  the  highest  improvement 
and  the  latest  preeminent  invention  of  art  with  the  most  lonely* 
aspect  of  a  grand,  but  desolate  nature, — the  most  striking  and 
complete  assemblage  of  splendor  and  comfort,  the  cheerfulness 
of  a  floating  hotel,  which  carries,  perhaps,  hundreds  of  guests, 
with  a  wild  and  uninhabited  forest,  it  may  be  an  hundred 
miles  in  width,  the  abode  only  of  bears,  owls,  and  noxious 
animals. 


TESTIMONIALS. 


The  undersigned  has  been  navigating  the  Mississippi  river 
for  thirty  years,  and  am  as  well  acquainted  with  it,  as  I  am 
with  the  deck  of  the  boat  I  command;  and  having  twice  ex¬ 
amined  Mr.  Banvard’s  Great  Painting  of  the  Mississippi  River, 
take  great  pleasure  in  testifying  to  its  truthfulness  and  cor¬ 
rectness  to  nature. 

JOHN  SHALCROSS, 

Master  of  Steamer  Peytona. 

New  Orleans ,  Nov.  20,  1846. 


This  is  to  certify  that  I  have  examined  Mr.  Banvard’s 
Painting  of  the  Mississippi  river,  and  having  been  engaged 
for  a  number  of  years  in  the  employ  of  Government,  raising 
snags  and  removing  other  obstructions,  am  well  acquainted 
with  the  river,  and  unhesitatingly  pronounce  Mr.  Banvard’s 
Painting  remarkably  correct  and  faithful  to  nature. 

J.  MOREHEAD, 

Louisville ,  Nov.  8,  1846.  U.  S.  Engineer. 


Kentucky  Historical  Society  Room,  ^ 
Oct.  31,  1846.  \ 

John  Banvard,  Esq., 

Dear  Sir, — Having  enjoyed  much  pleasure  in  company  with 
the  majority  of  the  members  of  this  Society  in  viewing  your 
magnificent  Panorama,  I  beg  leave  to  tender  this  voluntary 
testimonial  of  my  gratification.  Having  frequently  travelled 
the  Mississippi  river,  I  am  much  acquainted  with  the  grandeur 
and  magnificence  of  the  scenery  which  you  have  portrayed 


48 


in  your  stupendous  work  with  a  correctness  I  have  never  seen 
equalled. 

At  the  next  regular  meeting  of  the  Kentucky  Historical 
Society,  you  will  be  awarded  its  diploma  for  the  fidelity  of 
your  Painting.  Yours  truly, 

TAL.  P.  SHAFNER, 

Sec.  Ky.  His.  Soc. 


We  the  undersigned,  being  officers  of  steamboats  continu¬ 
ally  plying  on  the  Mississippi  river,  have  examined  Mr. 
Banvard’s  great  Painting,  and  take  great  pleasure  in  recom¬ 
mending  it  for  its  fidelity  and  truthfulness  to  nature,  and  giv¬ 
ing  a  correct  delineation  of  the  scenery  and  peculiar  charac¬ 
teristics  of  this  mighty  river. 


J.  JOINER,  Captain 

DANIEL  DASHIEL, 

C.  S.  CASTLEMAN, 

T.  COLEMAN, 

JAC.  DILLON, 

SAMUEL  PENNINGTON,  “ 
ELI  T.  DUSTIN, 

ROBERT  BROWN, 

THOMAS  NORTHUP, 

R.  DE  HART,  “ 

Over  one  hundred  more  names 


.  B.  SMITH,  Pilot. 

HENRY  E.  LEE, 

N.  OSTRANDER, 

ALEX.  BADGER, 

JOHN  CRAWFORD,  “ 
JAS.  D.  HAMILTON,  “ 

D.  S.  HALEY, 

JAMES  O’NEAL, 

ELI  YANSICKLE,  “ 
ALLEN  PELL, 
omitted  for  want  of  room. 


State  of  Kentucky, 

City  of  Louisville. 

I,  F.  A.  KAYE,  Mayor  of  the  city  of  Louisville,  do  hereby 
certify,  that  I  am  personally  acquainted  with  nearly  all  of 
the  gentlemen  who  have  certified  to  the  correctness  of  the 
great  Panorama  of  the  Mississippi  river,  painted  by  Mr.  John 
Banvard ;  and  certify  further,  that  they  are  all  practical  navi¬ 
gators  of  the  Mississippi  river,  and  are  gentlemen  of  veracity 
and  are  entitled  to  full  credit  as  such. 

FRED.  A.  KAYE,  Mayor. 


©pinions  of  tl)e  Jjkcss. 


The  painting,-— its  wild  beginning,  its  difficult  pro¬ 
gress,  and  final  triumphant  completion,  stands  alone 
in  the  annals  of  the  art,  as  a  marvellous  monument  of 
the  patience,  daring  ambition,  and  genius  of  Ameri-j 
can  character. — -[Boston  Herald. 

A  masterpiece,  both  in  design  and  execution  ;  it  is 
an  honor  alike  to  the  persevering  artist,  and  the  coun¬ 
try  of  his  birth.  [Boston  Post. 

Language  cannot  exaggerate  the  comparative  mer¬ 
its  of  this  great  work  of  art.  It  needs  only  to  be  seen 
to  satisfy  that  it  cannot  be  fully  appreciated.  [Bos¬ 
ton  Olive  Branch. 

It  is,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  one  of  the  most 
living,  charming  things,  that  ever  came  from  the  hands 
of  man.  [Boston  Atlas. 

i 

In  magnitude  and  grandeur  this  painting  has  no 
equal  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  [Boston  Times. 

This  painting  now  stands  the  greatest  and  proudest 
work  of  art  in  the  world.  [Louisville  Courier. 

We  can  only  say  that  too  much  cannot  be  said  in 
praise  of  this  wonderful  picture,  and  all  the  praise  it 
receives  is  justly  deserved.  [Louisville  Journal. 


